


The brightest star

by Drago



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Queen (Band), Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Popstar, Anal Fingering, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Caring Mickey, Cheating, Come Eating, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fat Shaming, Hurt Mickey Milkovich, Ian is a dick, Infidelity, Insecure Ian Gallagher, Insecure Mickey Milkovich, Jealous! Ian, M/M, Mickey meets Queen, Sex Addiction, Unsafe Sex, cop!Carl, mandy is a bitch, ok so apparently I'm not allowed to delete it, pop star Ian, still think it's trash but as long as some of you enjoy it...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:13:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23387182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drago/pseuds/Drago
Summary: Ian's success as a pop star means the downfall of his relationship with Mickey, or at least that's what it seems like after fame gets to his head an he cheats. But neither of them is able to completely let go.(aka Ian is a sex addict, but Mickey is willing to give him another chance)
Relationships: Adam Lambert/Mickey Milkovich, Carl Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Original Male Character(s), Mickey Milkovich/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 53
Kudos: 164





	1. Chapter 1

When Mickey first met Ian they were both teenage nobodies stuck in the Southside. Despite the young age, Mickey had a lot of baggage and very little hope for the future. He knew to stay in his lane, just like he knew to stay in the closet since his father was anything but loving. Ian ruined all of that, and it was the best thing that has ever happened to Mickey. Ian had his share of troubles, there is not even one person from the Southside that hasn’t being scarred by the neighborhood, but he still managed to cling to his dreams. Mickey fell for him so fast and so hard that it left him breathless and confused. Before Ian, he didn’t think he could love. He was loyal to his family, he fucked girls, but love was a foreign concept. Until Ian.  
Like many, Ian dreamed to be a singer. But, unlike others, he had the talent and the charisma necessary to succeed. Mickey always encouraged him to pursue his dreams, even when Ian’s older sister, Fiona, would tell him to find a more realistic goal or better yet – abandon all his dreams and be like them. Worn out and damaged. It was Mickey who worked his ass off to pay for Ian’s singing lessons, had to repeat the final year of high school, but it was worth it in the end. It would be worth it even if Ian didn’t become successful, because it made the younger boy happy.  
It paid off better than anyone could have expected and now, years later, Mickey finds himself living in Los Angeles with his millionaire, pop star boyfriend. At least that’s the official version, because at this point he sees Ian maybe once a month, and that’s only if he is lucky. Ian is a busy man, he doesn’t have much free time between the concerts, TV appearances, photoshoots, business meetings and industry events. Mickey understands that, and he rarely complains. Even if he does complain, it’s never to Ian. Fame is a fickle thing, and his boyfriend has to milk it for what it’s worth. That’s what both of them worked for.  
But he has to admit that it gets lonely. That’s why he kept his own flat, and he mostly lives there when Ian isn’t around. He rented it when he first moved to LA after Ian begged him to do it. Mickey didn’t want to rush their relationship, and living together seemed like a big step, even though they’ve been dating for three year at this point. So Mickey found a job at a construction, found a tiny flat he could afford, and continued to support Ian.  
Once things really took off and Ian got his first Grammy nomination, he asked Mickey to go on a tour with him. It was tempting, but Mickey couldn’t imagine himself as a kept boy, and that’s who he would be, if he accompanied Ian. His job wouldn’t wait and – no matter how much he loves Ian, he needs to have a life of his own, even if it’s not nearly as glamorous as a life of a pop star. Things are good, they really are.  
But they would be better if Ian wasn’t cheating on him.  
Mickey didn’t believe it at first, because he trusted Ian too much. And the Ian he knew, the slightly awkward and sweet but strong boy, wouldn’t do that to him. But it didn’t take long for rumors to come with the evidence, pictures taken by fans or even Ian’s hookups. They were very hard to ignore, and Mickey might not be the smartest guy in the world, but he is far from naive. They talked about it after Ian came back from the tour, and Mickey kept his calm through the whole tearful explanation of how hard and lonely it can get. He accepted it and forgave his boyfriend. Because Ian was right, Mickey couldn’t even imagine the life on the road.  
Then it happened again. And again. No matter how hard Ian cried in his arms, how profusely he apologized, he ultimately ended up doing the same thing the second he left LA. When Mickey suggested that Ian might have a problem and should talk to a therapist, Ian laughed it off and never mentioned it again. So Mickey did the only thing he could think of and started sleeping around as well.  
So there he is now, fucking twinks every time he sees a new picture of Ian making out with someone else. He is sure that not every Ian’s hookup gets documented, but it’s the only thing he can do, so he doesn’t feel like a complete doormat.  
Mickey still loves Ian. Maybe too much. Most definitely too much. That’s why it hurts that Ian can’t stay faithful for more than two fucking weeks.  
He never asked Ian to publicly announce their relationship, it was the younger man who brought it up, apologized for keeping it secret. He claimed being single sells better, but Mickey doesn’t really understand how being seen as a bed-hopping slut is better than being in a relationship. But what does Mickey know about the show business?  
Sleeping with other guys doesn’t feel as good as it used to when he was a teenager. Physically, he is satisfied, he cums every time. Mentally, it just doesn’t feel right. He’s gotten soft, the emotional pain used to be a completely foreign concept, and now he cries when he gets home after a hookup.  
Mickey used to fuck up a lot as a teenager, and that’s on him. Ian wasn’t a perfect angel either, but Mickey can own up to his past mistakes. He thought they left it behind, but maybe Ian’s infidelity is a form of delayed punishment.  
But, in the end, it doesn’t matter. When they are together, they are good, great even. It’s enough. It has to be, because Mickey isn’t sure he is ready to give Ian up just yet.

Ian’s house in LA is ridiculously big, much too big for two people, so Mickey quickly he goes back to his flat the second Ian leaves. If anyone asked, though no one ever does, he would rather live with Ian in his reasonable, small flat than in Ian’s house. The blatant show of wealth is, in his opinion, absolutely unnecessary. Then again, that’s what everyone else does, so maybe he is the one who is wrong. Mickey never claimed to be smart. But at least he doesn’t have to worry about getting lost on the way to the kitchen.  
Ian’s whole family (minus his father) moved to Los Angeles when Ian got rich. They pretend to work, but in reality Carl is the only one who is doing something with his life. Everyone else is living off Ian, but it’s none of Mickey’s business. Especially since his own sister is doing the same. In theory, she is his boyfriend’s assistant, but she would never get the job if Mickey wasn’t sleeping with Ian. The wonders of nepotism.  
He doesn’t bring men to his flat often, it doesn’t feel quite right. But sometimes he is too tired, or drunk, to be the one leaving (and someone has to leave, the rule is non-negotiable). It doesn’t happen often, so it’s quite ironic that when he finally allows it, they get interrupted. It’s so late that he knows it has to be something important, he puts on some briefs but skips the shirt, knowing it will be coming off again in a few minutes.  
For the first time in his life he considers slamming the door in Ian’s face.  
They were supposed to meet two weeks ago, but Ian bailed on him last minute, and Mickey most definitely wasn’t expecting to see him anytime soon. Yet here he is, in his redhead glory, grinning like a lunatic.  
Ian doesn’t have a key to Mickey’s flat because he doesn’t need it, and he never really asked for it either.. When they are together, they are at Ian’s house, so the flat is Mickey’s only.  
“Hey, Gallagher, what are you doing here?”  
“Well, you weren’t at home, so I figured I have to come here. We had a meeting scheduled.”  
“Yeah, two weeks ago. Listen, now is not the best time, okay? Go home, and I will come over as soon as I can.”  
“What do you mean by ‘not the best time’? We haven’t seen each other in weeks, and you’re trying to send me away?”  
Mickey swallows down the first retort that comes to his mind, after all it’s not his fault they’ve been apart so long.  
“I’m in the middle of... something,” just because they’re both sleeping with other people doesn’t mean they have to see it in real life. Mickey most definitely wouldn’t want to see Ian in action with someone else, it’s bad enough that he has to read about it.  
The smile slips off Ian’s face, and before Mickey can stop him, the singer shoulders past him and heads toward the bedroom. It takes him few seconds to find the half-naked man lounging in Mickey’s bed, even less to kick him out, yelling the whole time.  
“What the fuck, Mick?!” Ian asks, when the door is locked. “I work my ass off for you, and this is how you repay me?”  
“For me? Back off, gingersnap, you do it for yourself. Besides, I fucking told you, didn’t I? You fuck other guys on tour, I’m going to do the same.”  
“What? I thought you were joking or trying to make me stop… Fuck, how many?”  
“As many as you. At least from what I could find on the internet.”  
“What? Oh…”  
The conversation that follows is painful. Ian cries, eyes turning red and puffy, face splotched with red spots. For the first time in his life, Mickey thinks his boyfriend looks ugly. But he isn’t entirely sure whether it’s because Ian is crying, or because he is crying for himself. They discussed it before, and Ian has never, not even once, cried while Mickey, for the lack of a better word, begged him to stop sleeping around. But now he is feeling sorry for himself, because Mickey got tired of being a pushover.  
“Ian. Listen. You know that I love you, but it has to stop. Okay? You have to stop fucking around. If you promise to stop, I won’t do it again either, yeah?”  
“Yeah, yes, of course.”  
“I’m not joking, one more time and we’re done. Got it?”  
Ian nods earnestly.

Mickey is a fool.  
They spend the whole night fucking, and Ian has to fly to New York the next day. Mickey feels good about it, Ian seemed so honest the night before. He texts Mandy, telling her about the deal and asking her to keep an eye on Ian for him. They can do it.  
He goes to work, and even his coworkers notice his improved mood, jokingly commenting that he got laid. They are right, but he doesn’t tell them that. He meets with Joy after work, like he usually does. Joy’s real name is Ewan, but if he wants to be called Joy, then Mickey is going to call him just that.  
Joy is a bit flamboyant, a little loud, and perfectly fits into the gay stereotype. But he is not gay, which surprised Mickey when they first met. He tends the bar in a gay club, looks like a twink, criticizes Mickey’s choices of bed mates and has a girlfriend Sarah, of five years. Apparently, thirsty gay guys tip much better than desperate women, and Joy does everything he can think of to capitalize on that without sucking dick.  
Joy is Mickey’s best friend. Making friends is exceptionally difficult for someone like Mickey, he doesn’t know how to talk to people, especially people in LA. He has other friends, mostly from work, but Joy is the only person who always has his back. Or, as he puts it…  
“I’m the joy of your life!”  
“Pain in my ass is what you are, joker.”  
“You wish, baby.”  
They celebrate Ian’s promised fidelity with the worst beer they can find, reminding Mickey of the stuff he had in Chicago when he couldn’t afford anything else, and then follow with shots. For the next two months Mickey doesn’t feel the overwhelming sense of dread every time he opens the internet. The news are blissfully Ian-free, or at least sex-scandal free. And then Carl comes for a visit.  
Debbie used to be Mickey’s favorite Gallagher (other than Ian, that is), but Carl took her spot after his boyfriend got famous. Nowadays, Debbie seems to think she is a star as well, as if she doesn’t realize that the paparazzi are interested in her only because of Ian. Carl, on the other hand, is a cop. Not something anyone expected from him when he was a kid, but it’s a lot better than the future they all predicted for him. Deep down he is still a silly kid who smokes weed on his days off, so Mickey doesn’t mind it when Carl comes over. Usually, Carl gives him at least two days to prepare, knowing that Mickey hates surprise visits, but this time he just shows up on his doorstep. He is smiling, but Mickey knows him well enough to see that he is stressed out. He is standing so straight Mickey wants to make a joke about a stick up his ass, but nowadays he knows when to keep his mouth shut. Carl is a good kid, and if something has him wound up this tight, it must be serious. Usually, Carl acts like that when something bad happened at work, he sees loads of nasty things as a cop. But he keeps stealing glances at Mickey, like he is checking up on him.  
“Have you talked to Ian recently?” Carl finally asks, and Mickey puts down the sandwich he is eating.  
“Last week, why?”  
“Have you… Do you… Fuck.”  
“Articulate,” Mickey snorts, already slightly on the edge.  
“I had a week off, so Ian invited me on tour. I don’t know how to say it nicely, so I’ll just do it. Mandy told me you finally gave Ian an ultimatum, which is great, you should’ve done it sooner. But… he is still fucking other dudes, they just have to sign a fucking NDA that they won’t talk about it.”  
“What?”  
“Yeah, it’s so fucked up, man. People get invited to the after party, but they have to sign the NDA before they come in, that’s why nothing has been leaked so far.”  
“And Mandy knows?”  
“She is the one who came up with the NDA. Apparently Ian was getting anxious to have his dick sucked, but didn’t want you to know. Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this because he is my brother, but for fuck’s sake. You deserve better. He would be no one without you.”  
Mickey doesn’t know what to say to this, mostly because he is still shocked _his sister_ and _his boyfriend_ plotted behind his back, because Ian can’t stay loyal. Mickey honestly believed that things would work out, that Ian is better than that. He should’ve known better, but fuck. This is the man he loves, and love isn’t supposed to hurt this much.  
Carl stays for a few more hours, and they pretend everything is just fine. Mickey waits until Carl leaves to message Mandy, not Ian. It’s a simple text that says, _Fucking NDA, really?_ Then he mutes the phone and gets splendidly drunk. Alone and drunk, just like in the good, old days.  
In the morning, he still feels drunk, and his phone is full of messages from both his sister and his boyfriend. Ex. Ex-boyfriend. He considers reading them, just to see what lies they came up with, but in the end just deletes everything.  
Joy and Sarah help him move the next day. He doesn’t have that many things, so he could probably do it alone, but he needs their support more than anything else. It’s not exactly true that he doesn’t have many things, it’s that most of them have been gifted to him by Ian, and Mickey doesn’t want them anymore. The only gift he keeps is a watch. While expensive, it’s not as ridiculously priced as some of the things Ian got for him later. It was the first thing Ian bought him after gaining recognition, back then the younger man wasn’t cheating on him yet. It carries many happy memories, even if Mickey doesn’t wear it because he is afraid he might lose it. He definitely won’t start wearing it now, but he will put it in a box, which he will hide in the closet along with few other trinkets and pictures that remind him of Ian.  
By the time his friends leave, although they both offer to stay with him – Joy even wants to move in for a week or two which Mickey declines, he is pleasantly dumb. He can’t feel a single thing, and it’s thousand times better than the pain he felt before. He decides to enjoy it while it lasts, because there is no doubt in his mind that sooner or later he will have to deal with his heart being ripped into pieces.  
Ian is angry and drunk when he comes banging on Mickey’s door. He doesn’t open, because he knows damn well he is going to break the second Ian turns his puppy eyes on him. He needs to protect himself since someone who claims to love him doesn’t care to do that.  
He stands with his forehead and palms pressed against the door, listening to his boyfriend begging, crying and cussing him out.  
“Don’t do this to us.”  
“I am not the one who broke us,” Mickey says trying to keep his voice from shaking.  
“I love you so much, baby.”  
“No, you fucking don’t. If you loved me, you would have stopped fucking around when I asked. I gave you everything I could, and I’m empty, Ian. There’s nothing left to give.”  
“Fine, you bitch! You’ll be the one regretting this.”  
“I know,” Mickey whispers to himself once he is sure Ian is gone. People throw themselves at Ian right and left, wanting to bask in his fame or fuck him – either for his looks or money. And Mickey is just normal, nothing distinguishes him from the crowd except for his angry tattoos. He can almost understand why Ian cheated on him, but he always hoped the younger man was different from other famous men in LA. But they are all the same.  
For the next few months Ian keeps messaging him when he is drunk, more often than not trying to guilt-trip him into coming back. Mickey doesn’t respond. He could block him, but he misses Ian, even if thinking about the redhead hurts. And Ian is still sleeping around, no longer trying to hide it from the media.  
Mandy tries calling, but Mickey doesn’t pick up. Her betrayal hit him on a different level, maybe deeper than Ian’s. She is his sister, she is supposed to be on his side, especially since Ian is the one in the wrong. Perhaps Mickey is a bit dramatic when he texts her: _Stop calling me, I don’t have a sister anymore_ , but at least it works. And after a while, Ian’s messages dwindle down to nothing.

Ian’s next song is his first to top the Billboard chart. It stays there for eight weeks, and it’s about Mickey. To be precise, it’s about Mickey supposedly breaking Ian’s heart. Mickey hears it all the time at work, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, everyone is talking about Ian Gallagher’s mysterious ex-boyfriend, because the redhead decided to admit he’s been hiding a partner. At first, people commiserate with him, and Mickey gets dragged through the mud on the Internet. But then Ian’s fans start to piece it together, realizing that Ian must have repeatedly cheated on him since there are countless pictures of Ian making out with random men. So they start pitying Mickey, and it’s more humiliating even though they don’t know his name.  
Still, Ian’s song dominates the charts for weeks. It’s a good song, objectively speaking, but Mickey wants to smash his head against the wall every time he hears it. At least Joy manages to ban it from his workplace.  
Mickey keeps in touch with Carl, but they don’t ever talk about Ian anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

It takes him three years to heal. He doesn’t know if it’s a lot or not, since he’s got nothing to compare it to, but it feels like a long time.  
He moved few weeks after the breakup because he was worried Ian would randomly show up, and he just couldn’t find peace in this place anymore. He even briefly considered going back to Chicago, but he doesn’t hate himself enough to do that anymore.  
He gets a new job, building concert stages, because even though Ian didn’t want the world to know about him, he still managed to meet some people from the entertainment industry, and when one of them comes looking for a dependable employee, Mickey doesn’t hesitate. He accepts the job because he knows there’s a very small chance of running into Ian, whose label works with another – older and more established, company.  
He moves up the ladder quickly too, so after three years he doesn’t get his hands dirty too often anymore. He enjoys telling people what to do, overseeing their work. The money he gets for it doesn’t hurt either. He didn’t even realize that he put his own career on the back burner when he was dating Ian. Frankly speaking, he didn’t think he could have one. They both focused to much on Ian’s achievements, that Mickey accepted that his main role was to support his partner. Now that there’s nothing holding him back he is learning new things about himself. He can’t, and doesn’t want to, entirely blame Ian for this, but he can’t remember the last time Ian asked about his plans for the future or dreams. Probably because it never happened.  
It motivates him to do better. Getting over your ex is much more difficult when his face is plastered all over the city, but keeping your head down and working hard helps. It makes him miss some interested looks thrown his way, but even after three years he isn’t ready for a relationship. He hooks up with random guys and that’s enough at this point in his life. He isn’t alone, he has friends, and that’s more he could have asked for when he was a teenager.  
“I was going to surprise you for your birthday, but I know you hate surprises,” Joy beams at him over coffee and pancakes. “I got my hands on the VIP tickets for Queen. There’s an after party with them, motherfucker! Boom!”  
It’s impossible to live in LA and not know someone at least slightly famous, and Joy happens to be a very sociable and likable person, so Mickey doesn’t even bother asking how he could afford them. Besides, he is – for the lack of a better word, giddy with excitement, and he would take the tickets even if Joy told him he sold his mother to buy them.  
“So who is coming with me, you or Sarah?”  
“I love her, but if you invite her I’ll chain her to the radiator, so she can’t leave the house, and take her place anyway.”  
“Okay, man. Thanks,” he finally smiles at his friend, letting him know how happy the gift made him. Mickey isn’t best with words, but Joy has been his friend long enough to know that his ‘thanks’ means a lot more than it might seem. “I would kiss you, if you weren’t so damn ugly.”  
“Fuck you, we both know my tragic straightness is the only reason we aren’t together.”  
“And your girlfriend.”  
Joy frowns at that, “No, not really.”  
And he is not wrong. They would make a great couple if things were different, and Joy was at least bisexual. They are close enough to pass for one, but things are not different, and they won’t ever be.  
“I’m definitely telling Sarah _that_.” It earns him a surprisingly strong punch, but he keeps his face straight.  
Queen for Mickey always meant freedom. He started listening to them back when he was still under Terry’s thumb. His father approved of his taste in music, not believing that Freddie Mercury could be anything but straight ( _”Those fuckers on TV were trying to make him a fag, but I tell you he was swimming in pussy”_ ), and Mickey derived a lot of pleasure from jamming to a queer man with his father next room. However small his attempt at disobedience was, it still felt good. He never got to see them live in the past, because at first he was too poor to afford a ticket, and when he moved to LA he was always too busy to go to their concert when they were in town. Ian offered to buy him a plane ticket to a weekend show in another state, but Mickey didn’t want to spend something he didn’t earn.  
Building a stage for Queen is definitely a dream of his, but he knows it’s not going to happen. They are not on his company’s list, probably working with some other contractor. Maybe he will look it up and see if they are hiring.  
“Wear the black washout jeans we bought you last fall.”  
“Why?”  
“Because your ass looks fuckable in them, duh.”  
“Once again, why?”  
“Because you are about to meet Queen, and you have to look good.”  
“You know they are like over seventy, right? And probably straight?”  
“Fuck you for putting that image in my head,” Joy cringes. “I was thinking about their vocalist. He looks like he could pound you through the wall with his monster dick.”  
“Jesus fucking Christ, just shut up, man.”  
He ends up wearing the good jeans. He might not hook up with anyone from the band, but it doesn’t mean there won’t be other guys looking, and his ass does look exceptionally tight in them.

Mickey doesn’t even try to pretend that his hands aren’t shaking when he finally meets Roger and Brian. His whole body is vibrating with how excited and anxious he is. He calms down after exchanging few words with Brian, who seems to exude calm and peace. Mickey isn’t much of a talker, and he most definitely doesn’t know what to talk about with someone so famous, especially his – for the lack of a better word, idols. He got what he came for anyway. The concert was a banger, and now there are at least six pictures with Roger and Brian on his phone. So he leaves talking to Joy and other smart people, and goes on a hunt for whiskey. There’s an open bar, but the beer they have is too fancy for his taste. He doesn’t do wine which seems to be a popular choice, but he can appreciate the expensive whiskey. He never buys it himself, but he is not going to say no when the opportunity presents itself. The bartender takes one look at him, smiles knowingly, and gives him a tumbler filled to the top. Mickey nods at him – the guy is probably the closest to his social status in this whole place.  
He feels rather than sees someone approach him. There’s a sudden, large presence behind him, and he stiffens, before the person moves to the side to sit down. He looks up, up and then some, and startles when he finds icy blue eyes of Adam Lambert staring back at him.  
“Hi,” the vocalist says, voice low and warm.  
“Hi?”  
“Saw you at the concert in the VIP lounge. You seemed to be having fun. Now… not so much.”  
“No, I… Not my scene, I guess. I love Queen, but people here...”  
“I get what you mean.”  
“Really?” Mickey cocks an eyebrow at him, not really believing what he hears.  
“I wasn’t born famous, man. By the way, I’m Adam.”  
“I know. Mickey.”  
They don’t shake hands.  
“I know.”  
“How the fuck would you know that?”  
“We met before. Well, I say met… We were at the same party, and someone introduced us, but you were already three sheets to the wind, so I’m not surprised you don’t remember that. My fault, I was really late, and everyone was drunk by the time I got there. Anyway, you came with that redhead, Ian Gallagher.”  
“Uh, yeah,” Mickey is surprised that Adam remembers him, the party had to be at least four years ago, since after that Ian stopped taking him to the work-related parties, but he is not going to ask. Maybe it’s a coincidence, maybe Mickey looks like someone Adam knows, there’s no point in reading too much into it.  
“Thought you were cute, but Ian was guarding you like a dog. Not that I’d go after someone’s man, but I can always appreciate a pretty face when I see one.”  
“We weren’t...”  
“Yeah, you were,” Adam’s smile is blinding. Mickey must be drunker than he thought because he wants to rub his hand against the scruff on Adam’s face. “That was before Ian started to pretend he is single. I’m guessing you are the one he wrote ‘Broken promise’ about?”  
Mickey can’t help it, he scoffs loudly and takes a sip of his drink, reveling in the burning sensation in his throat.  
“Good song, dick move,” Adam continues. “Letting a man like you go. But he is still young, I suppose. Doesn’t know how important it is to have someone to keep you grounded.”  
“Wait, you know him?”  
“Kind of, we see each other at various events, but I wouldn’t call him a friend.”  
Mickey hums. Ian is really getting up there, or maybe he already is on top. It’s hard to tell when you avoid everything Gallagher-related.  
“You’re not gonna ask if we banged?” Adam asks with a smirk, his eyes twinkling.  
“Nope. I already know the answer to that.”  
“Oh, do you now?  
“Mhm, two tops don’t make a bottom,” Mickey says, surprised by how easy it is to talk to Adam, to banter with him. Apparently LA changed him too, and he didn’t even notice.  
“And how do you know I’m a top?”  
“I saw the way you moved around that blond twink who used to play bass for your solo. I can usually spot a top when I see one.”  
“Ah, him,” Adam puts so much contempt into this one, simple word that Mickey doesn’t have to ask him to elaborate. “I made some mistakes in the past, some people just aren’t who you think they are. But you’re right, I’m a top. And a redhead under all that black, in case that’s what you like?”  
“You dye your hair?”  
“Yeah.”  
When Mickey looks close, he can see the freckles all over Adam’s skin. He always liked freckles, and he definitely likes them on Adam.  
“Are you flirting?”  
“Yes? Don’t tell me you can tell if dude is a top, but don’t know when someone is hitting on you.”  
“Give me a break, guys aren’t exactly lining up to ask me out.”  
It’s Adam’s turn to scoff, and he does it so loudly that the bartender looks up from the drink he is mixing to check up on them. “I find it hard to believe, you probably don’t even notice and leave poor guys hanging.”  
“Yeah, well, I’m not looking for a relationship anyway.”  
“What about a friendly fuck?”  
“I’m not even your type, man. You like twinks, all lithe and shit.”  
Adam might not be Freddie when it comes to vocals, but he is much more attractive in Mickey’s eyes, so maybe he looked up the older man once or twice. Maybe he even jerked off to some of his pictures, sitting on a dildo and wondering if the bulge is real.  
“Usually, yes. But there’s something about you… And your fucking ass, Mick, I have to have my tongue in it.”  
Mickey freezes for a second, unused to talking about gay sex so openly, but he quickly relaxes when he realizes that no one heard Adam. But even if they did, they probably wouldn’t care. They wouln’t dre, not here.  
He knows that Adam has at least ten years on him, and it’s not something that would usually turn him on, but he realizes that he doesn’t really mind. It doesn’t hurt that the vocalist is tall, taller and broader than Ian, he looks like he could easily pick Mickey up and fuck him stupid, just like Joy said.  
It turns Mickey on, and while he might not be able to handle another famous boyfriend, he can definitely handle a fuck, so he casually puts his hand on Adam’s thigh and lets it stay there. They continue talking, getting slightly more tipsy before Mickey decides to step up the game and moves his hand towards Adam’s crotch.  
He texts Joy to tell him that he is leaving with a guy – he doesn’t specify it’s Adam, because apparently that’s what people do when they have friends. In the past, Mickey would just disappear, not realizing that someone could be worried about him. But the first, and last, time he did it to Joy, his friend freaked out and blew up his phone with messages and calls. They had a long talk after that, which managed to traumatize Mickey into always telling Joy where he is going.  
Adam has a driver, because of course he does, so they spend the whole drive to Adam’s place making out. Mickey hopes the driver doesn’t hear or see him almost riding the older man through their pants, but he doesn’t think his moans could be missed. He is loud, he learned to accept that about himself, though it seemed terribly gay when he was a teen.  
But he is just that, isn’t he? Terribly gay.

Adam is big all over. Broad shoulders, strong thighs, large hands cupping Mickey’s hips as he writhes on Adam’s massive cock, guiding him. His presence is almost overwhelming, but his eyes are soft like Ian’s used to be when things were better, so Micky lets the older man own him. It’s what he wants and needs, the intimacy he’s been craving for months that was lacking from his other, nameless hook ups.  
Adam fucks like a man possessed with strong, deep thrusts that make Mickey sweat and keen, back arched and mouth open for the other man to devour. Adam is the definition of what Joy would call an experience. Mickey always thought he knew sex, but whatever he knew didn’t prepare him for the way Adam tries to fuck his way into him, like he wants a part of him to stay in Mickey forever.  
And Mickey thinks it might work, they are using a condom, but it might work, he doesn’t think he can forget being owned like that by a person he doesn’t even know that well. He feels owned in the best way possible, and he willingly spreads his thighs wider to let Adam closer.  
They fuck again in the morning, before breakfast, and Mickey goes home bow-legged, sore, exhausted, but satisfied, Adam’s number in his phone. He laughs to himself, slightly shocked by everything that happened, so much so that he forgets to cuss Joy out when his friend comes over to check up on him and calls him a slut because of the way Mickey’s legs have to stay slightly parted as he sits down.  
When he checks his Instagram later, he discovers that he posted some pictures the night before. He doesn’t really remember doing it, but his account is private and there aren’t many people who have access to it. After the break up, Mickey unfollowed Ian’s private account (and Mandy’s too), not wanting to see his face all over his feed. Not wanting to see him with other guys. But Ian kept following him, and while he didn’t comment or like his posts anymore, he lurked around. The Instagram Stories always betrayed his presence. At first Mickey considered blocking him, but he decided it would be too petty and childish. If Ian wants to spy on his ex, then so be it.  
The pictures on Mickey’s feed are fine, just him with Roger, Brian and Adam, one selfie with Joy. But there’s also a blurry picture on his Story of him kissing Adam, the vocalist’s tongue clearly being intimate with Mickey’s. You wouldn’t know it’s Adam since he is shirtless and only the lower half of his face is visible, but it’s quite obvious it’s been taken after the first time they fucked. Ian saw it already, and Mickey wonders if it hurt him. Then again, he isn’t sure whether Ian was ever hurting.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late update, but I was really busy with work and didn't even realize it's been... 10(?) days since the last update.
> 
> If someone wants to help me with the description for this fic I'll be forever grateful. I just can't do this shit 😂

Surprisingly, Adam stays in touch, and Mickey gains a friend. Which is not at all what he expected. He knows he is a good fuck, but is he good enough to keep around as a friend? Adam seems to think so, but Mickey isn’t sure he truly believes him. He still isn’t great at this whole friendship business, Joy (and, to a smaller degree, Sarah) was an accident. But if Adam wants to text him every few days then Mickey isn’t going to stop him.  
The past three years have been lonely. Mickey didn’t just lose a boyfriend, he also lost a sister – two out of four people he regularly talked to, and who really knew him. It’s going to take a while before Adam gets there, but it’s nice to be able to talk to someone new. The nudes don’t hurt either. While both of them want to be friends, they also aren’t opposed to some dirty talk every now and then, when it’s late at night and no one else is around to keep them company. Adam has a nice dick, and Mickey has needs.  
The only other exciting thing about his life is the new gig his company landed. There’s supposed to be a huge open air concert next month, and the organizers asked for some rather challenging modifications to the stage and lighting, and Mickey is quite literally living for it. Being excited about _work_ should be lame, and Joy teases him for it, but he doesn’t really care anymore. The job he has now is better than anything he could dream of as a kid, and he is not going to pretend that he doesn’t love it just to maintain his grumpy image.  
It’s even more exciting now that he is basically in charge of the project. His boss trusts him, Mickey Milkovich, to do a good job and manage other employees. Un-fuckin-believable, yet true. And the best part is that Mickey is actually doing it, and other people are listening to him because they trust his knowledge and skills. He stopped taking drugs after they moved to LA, not wanting to tarnish Ian’s reputation in any way (although he did manage to do it alone quite well), but it feels like the best high he’s ever had.  
That’s why it doesn’t even occur to him to check who will be performing at the festival. It doesn’t usually matter, since most of the time Mickey is gone by the time the musicians arrive, leaving his crew to deal with any issues that might turn up last minute. He is on-call, always ready to come in and save the day, but he isn’t physically there. Except this time, because it’s too big of an event for him to leave.  
And that’s why he is entirely unprepared when he suddenly comes face to face with the brightness that’s Ian Gallagher. Judging from the look on Ian’s face, he didn’t expect to see him either. But while his ex’s face looks almost hopeful, Mickey feels himself panic. He is not ready, it doesn’t matter that it’s been over three years since they split – it’s too soon. Especially since Mickey is a bit sweaty from work and heat, while Ian looks like million dollars. Which is less than he is worth, probably. Ian always looked good, which was part of the problem. Maybe people wouldn’t be gagging for him so much if he was slightly less handsome.  
“Mick, hi! What… what are you doing here?”  
“Uh, working. My company is setting up the stage.”  
“You switched jobs?”  
“Yeah,” he grunts, shuffling his feet nervously.  
“It’s good to see you. You look great,” Ian seems anxious now, and Mickey knows he wants to say something else. It might have been years since they last saw each other, but he still knows his ex’s little quirks.  
But before Ian manages to spit out whatever it is that’s bothering him, Mickey feels someone hug him from behind. Few years ago his elbow would already be in the guts of whoever is touching him, but now he gives himself a second to think. He recognizes the perfume of the man hugging him, and when he looks down, he most definitely the recognizes the thick arm.  
“Hey Adam, I didn’t know you’re playing today,” he says easily, accepting the kiss that comes right after. It’s only on the cheek, but he can see that it doesn’t leave Ian indifferent. Surprisingly enough, it also gives Mickey confidence, and it’s probably Adam’s goal since they aren’t even together.  
“I decided to surprise you. Knew you were excited about this gig, so I wanted to be your cherry on top. Hello, Ian!”  
“Hi, Adam. I didn’t know you knew Mickey.”  
“Mm, we’re quite well acquainted. I gotta go now, do my makeup and whatnot. You wanna come, Mick?”  
“I can’t, there are still some things I need to do before you guys can start the rehearsal. Catch you later?”  
“For sure, I’ll sing ‘Fat bottomed girls’ for you.”  
“Fuck off,” Mickey chuckles, earning himself another kiss. He watches Adam walk away, aware of Ian’s eyes on him.  
“Mickey… Can I talk to you?”  
“I wasn’t lying to Adam, I got shit to do.”  
“Are you dating him?”  
“What is it to you?”  
“Nothing, I just… Look, I really want to talk to you, please. Can we talk after the show?”  
“No, I’m going home the second it’s done, I’ve been awake for six hours already, and it’s only eleven.”  
“You are right, I’m sorry. Can I have your number then? It’s my last public appearance for a while, so we can meet whenever you are free.”  
“Whatever,” Mickey shrugs, but he still reaches for Ian’s phone. It’s the eyes, he could never say no to them.  
He is about to join his crew, when Ian shyly asks, “Will you watch my set?”  
“No, man. Not my style.”  
And he doesn’t, choosing to hang out with Adam instead. Adam doesn’t ask, he just keeps his large hand on Mickey’s thigh to keep him grounded.

He agrees to meet Ian in a small coffee shop, not wanting to bring him to his own place. Going to Ian’s would hurt too much, remind him of all the good moments they shared there.  
They all come back to him anyway when he sees his ex boyfriend again, this time Ian’s hair is free of product, and it’s long enough on top to curl slightly. This is Mickey’s favorite look on Ian, always has been, and he suspects it’s been done on purpose. In a simple plaid shirt and with his hair loose, Ian looks young and innocent, and it hits Mickey that he never stopped loving the younger man. He healed as much as he could, but he is still in love with Ian.  
“Thank you,” the redhead says when Mickey finally sits in front of him.  
“For what?”  
“For agreeing to meet me. I ordered for you, I hope… I hope your order didn’t change.”  
Mickey takes a sip, but he already knows it’s going to be perfect. He didn’t change that much. Maybe a little bit, but he still takes his coffee sweet.  
“What do you wanna talk about then?” he asks, fighting the urge to cross his arms, not wanting to seem defensive or scared.  
“I want to apologize. All I did was yell at you the last time we saw each other, and you were long gone by the time I got my shit together. I tried to find you through Joy, but he just blocked me.”  
“Finally someone I can trust,” Mickey mutters mostly to himself, but he knows Ian hears him. He looks regretful, as he should.  
“I’m sorry, I don’t even know what to say to express how fucking sorry I am. I was a piece of shit, and I hurt you so much...” Ian lowers his eyes, unable to look at him.  
“Why are you telling me this? It’s been years, man. I don’t believe you didn’t move on. It doesn’t matter anymore.”  
“It does! It does matter, because I hurt you, when all you did was support me. And I didn’t move on, I couldn’t. You are the love of my life, even if you are with Adam now.”  
“Adam is just a friend,” Mickey corrects him. It feels like the right moment to be honest.  
“So you didn’t..?”  
“I said we’re not a couple, not that we didn’t fuck.”  
“Oh. That explains all the pictures you posted with him on your Instagram. And why you’re suddenly best friends with Brian May and Roger fucking Taylor.”  
“Yeah, well,” he shrugs, not interested in giving away any details. It’s not why they are here. Mickey doesn’t really know what he wants from Ian, but the apology alone is feeling lackluster.  
As if sensing his thoughts, Ian starts talking again, this time much quieter, “There is more. Remember when you told me to see a specialist? I know you worried I was bipolar like Monica, but that’s not the case. I was... pissed off and upset after you broke up with me that I went on a fucking spree. Literally. I don’t remember half of the men I fucked. Then one day I woke up surrounded by random men I didn’t really recognize, after a gangbang I didn’t quite remember, and realized that I’m proving your point. So then I wanted to prove that everything was fine with me, decided not to have sex for a while. And I fucking couldn’t, I was like a junkie, yelling at everyone like a goddamn lunatic. I ended up fucking one of my new crew members after less than two days. Two days, Mick, and I couldn’t do it. I felt like shit in the morning, finally realizing that something is wrong with me.”  
Ian looks like he is about to cry, but Mickey stays silent, wanting to hear the whole story. Just like he expected, Ian soldiers on after a few minutes of silence.  
“So I went to the shrink my manager recommended, terrified I’m going to hear that I’m bipolar. Thank God the shrink was a woman, because I’d have probably fucked him if it was a guy out of fear alone. She told me I’m not bipolar, but my rampant sex drive isn’t healthy either. I was… I am a sex addict, Mick. You were right the whole time, I needed help, but I refused to listen to you.”  
“Fuck,” maybe it makes him a bad person, but Mickey feels relieved in a way. “I thought you got bored of me, but you still liked the convenience of having a warm ass on tap or maybe felt like you owed me something.”  
“God, no. I mean yes, I do owe you, but that’s not why. I love you, always did. But I couldn’t control myself. I guess I should also apologize for not listening to you.”  
“Wasn’t your fault.”  
“Don’t do that. Don’t make up excuses for me now. I’m not gonna lie, it’s been fucking difficult to get my dignity back, but the choices I made are still mine.”  
Mickey nods, not wanting to argue. “So how are you doing now?”  
“I’m good. I haven’t had sex in a year, and even that was just a handjob. I had to replace most of my male dancers at one point, because I slept with most of them, and when they realized that they started competing for my attention, as if I wanted to be with any of them. It was fucking embarrassing, and my manager was really pissed off at me. Now my dancers are either girls or straight guys. I’m still going to therapy, probably always will.”  
“Better than bipolar,” Mickey decides to chip in.  
“Yes, definitely,” Ian smiles again. It’s a small one, but at least he doesn’t look so defeated anymore. “I also had to fire Mandy.”  
“You fired her? What for? She always had your back,” Mickey doesn’t care if he sounds bitter, because he is exactly that.  
“Yeah, and that was the problem. Well, I did fire her, but I also immediately found her another employer. She is working for another singer from my label, someone who has their shit together. My therapist made me realize that Mandy’s devotion has been enabling the worst in me. She would always make up excuses for me, even when she knew I was hurting people around me. I wouldn’t even think of the NDA if it wasn’t for her. I love her, she is one of my best friends, but I need someone who will kick my ass when I start to go astray, and she wouldn’t do that.”  
“Always knew she had a crush on you,” Mickey admits. “I spent weeks wondering if she did that on purpose, because she was jealous and wanted you for herself. She knows she can’t be your girlfriend, but if you aren’t in a relationship then you’ll always come back to her.”  
“I don’t think Mandy is this calculating,” Ian sounds hesitant.  
“Maybe she didn’t know she was doing it, but it doesn’t matter in the end.”  
“Wait, you are willing to forgive me but not Mandy?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Why?”  
“Because you have a valid excuse. You hurt me, and I don’t think I’ll ever forget about it, but it doesn’t change the fact that you are sick or whatever. I can forgive that. Mandy, on the other hand? She covered up for you, lied to me, even though she knew how much it bothered me. She is _my_ fucking sister, but she chose her job and you over my happiness. What is her fucking excuse, huh? She never gave me one.”  
“She is sorry,” Ian rushes to assure him. “She really is, we don’t talk about it anymore, but she is on your Instagram a lot.”  
“It’s really none of your business, Gallagher, so don’t try to justify her,” Mickey says more harshly than he intended, and Ian flinches. “It’s between Mandy and I, so back off.”  
“Alright, alright, sorry.”  
They are done, Mickey guesses. Ian got what he came for, his forgiveness. Because Mickey can forgive him now that there’s another reason, something other than Ian not loving him enough. He is easy for the redhead, always has been. He gets up slowly, ready to leave, but Ian grabs him by the wrist, panicked look on his face.  
“Where are you going?”  
“Home? Didn’t you get what you wanted?”  
“I want so much more from you,” the younger man says softly, subconsciously rubbing Mickey’s wrist. “I’m not sure if you are willing to give it to me, but… Can we just talk? Tell me about your job. I missed hearing your voice.”  
So Mickey does. At first he is slightly awkward, but he quickly relaxes. And then it’s easy, because Ian is a good listener, and they have so much history that can’t be erased, that it’s easy to almost slip back into their old dynamic. There would be more touching in the past, Ian never knew how to keep his hands to himself, always touching Mickey’s knee, shoulder or, if he was feeling adventurous, the top of his thigh. Mickey can see him trying to reach out and stopping himself the last second, and he appreciates it more than he wants to admit. A part of him wants Ian’s hands on him, but the bigger part is still unsure, wary.  
When they say their goodbyes, promising to keep in touch, Ian leans in as if he wants to kiss Mickey’s cheek. He takes a step back, shaking his head slightly. Not yet.  
Not yet.

“Do you think he is telling the truth?” Mickey mumbles around the fork. It’s easier to talk about it when he is stuffing his face with carbonara, making it less serious than it really is.  
“I tried googling it, but nothing came up. Which doesn’t mean it’s not true, it just means he didn’t talk about it openly, which isn’t really surprising,” Joy shrugs, staring at him like a hawk. “Do you believe him?”  
“He was always a shit liar, so I want to say yes, but…” he pauses and then adds quietly, “I want it to be true, so I can’t trust my own judgment.”  
Joy hums and pulls out his phone, focusing his attention on it.  
“Really? We are in the middle of something, bitch.”  
“Yeah, and I’m checking if there are any pictures or accounts of Ian fucking around in the past few months. I know he has this STD thing...”  
“Jesus Christ, it’s called NDA, you dick,” Mickey groans, but when he looks up he finds Joy already staring at him and smirking. “Fuck you.”  
“You wish. Anyway, there’s nothing. Again, could be the NDA, but even then someone would probably slip up, right?”  
“So should I give him a chance? What if he does it again?”  
“He might,” it feels like a slap, but Joy quickly takes his hand and gives it a squeeze, “he might, because his disorder won’t disappear, but you will know it’s not because he really wanted it. Can you handle it?”  
“Maybe, I don’t know. Probably. It’s just… he is it for me. I don’t think I could ever love someone the way I love him, and it make sit hard to stay away now that I know he still loves me.”  
“So go for it, but make him work for you. Make him sweat, so he doesn’t think there won’t be any consequences if he slips up again.”  
Ian and Joy aren’t friends, they never were. They are too similar in some ways, and Ian was always jealous of Joy’s relationship with Mickey, which Joy used to rile him up by kissing his best friend’s cheek or hugging him from behind. Mickey would usually hang out with Joy alone, tired of their constant bickering. That’s why he knows that Joy isn’t doing it for Ian. He doesn’t care about the redhead enough, so Mickey can trust his judgment.  
He doesn’t really want to get Carl involved, but who if not a family member would know the truth? Especially in the Gallagher family. So he invites Carl over, promising him beer and edibles. The younger man might be a cop, but he is still Southside enough to enjoy soft drugs every now and then.  
Mickey makes sure to word his question in a way that doesn’t betray how much he already knows. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Carl to tell him the truth, he just doesn’t want to risk it.  
“You mean the sex thing? How do you know?”  
“I worked on a stage for him and some other famous assholes. The festival. We talked.”  
“I didn’t even know it was a thing, addiction to sex? Sounds fun!” Carl laughs, but then seems to remember that Ian’s addiction was the reason why Mickey’s relationship ended and quickly corrects himself. “At least in theory. But hey, better than bipolar.”  
“That’s what I said. Why didn’t you tell me?”  
“Not my thing to tell. And I didn’t want to do his job, you know? If he wants you back, then he should be the one explaining everything. I’m not his keeper.”  
“When did you get so fucking wise, huh?”  
“I don’t know man, maybe you’re just getting dumber as you age.”  
“Shut the fuck up, kid, and eat your fucking brownies.”


	4. Chapter 4

He starts hanging out with Ian.  
Which is really weird, because how do you casually hang out with your first love, with the man you fucked countless times? And yet that’s what they are doing, even if it’s hard not to fall right back into the relationship. Because this version of Ian that he sees? That’s his Ian, the one he met in Chicago, the one who doesn’t know how to play it cool, and the one whose eyes light up every time he sees Mickey, even if he is wearing a stained hoodie and worn out pants.  
But Mickey knows better, even if he does tell Adam that he can’t do it anymore when the older man sexts him. They are trying, he is willing to give it a try, so he needs to commit, but he is not putting himself out there to get hurt again. He cautiously lets Ian inside his new flat, and he is surprised to discover that the younger man sold his house.  
“It stopped feeling like a home, you know?” Ian explains. “Without you there… Suddenly it seemed so fucking big, and I had to ask myself if I really needed it. The answer was pretty obvious. No.”  
“So what, you just sold it?”  
“Yeah, and bought a smaller one. I still need a place to sleep when I’m in LA, and to be honest I feel so much better in it.”  
“Your famous friends aren’t mocking you for how small it is?” Mickey says with a smirk, but it’s not a joke, at least not entirely.  
“I don’t really keep in touch with many famous people, it got old real quick. And it’s not small, it’s just not as huge as the other one was.”  
“Okay, Rockefeller. What do you wanna eat? Chinese?”  
“Could you… uh, could you make the potato pancakes you used to make when… In the past?”  
“My mother’s deruny? Let me check if I have enough potatoes.”  
He does, so he starts working on the pancakes, secretly pleased that Ian remembers and still likes one of the few things Mickey’s mom taught him to cook before she ran away with some guy, leaving them with Terry.  
Mickey is so focused on his own thoughts that he doesn’t realize Ian has moved until the other man is standing behind him. They aren’t touching, but Mickey can feel his larger presence. It would be so easy to take a step back, mold himself against Ian to see if they still fit perfectly. He knows they do, but he could check, just in case... He stays put, methodically peeling the potatoes.  
“I should apologize for one more thing,” Ian murmurs, and his low voice makes Mickey shiver.  
“What are you talking about?”  
“The song I wrote about you.”  
“It’s a nice song.”  
“Yeah, but it’s unfair to you.”  
Mickey shrugs, because he doesn’t care about the song anymore. At least one of them got something out of their break up.  
Ian leans his forehead against Mickey’s shoulder and says, “I wrote other songs for you after I got my shit together. Songs about you.”  
“I don’t listen to your music anymore.”  
“I’m sorry, baby,” it’s just a whisper, no louder than a sigh, but Mickey hears it clearly. He doesn’t acknowledge it, but he hears it.  
He almost asks Ian to stay the night as he watches the redhead moan around deruny with a little bit of sour cream clinging to his upper lip. Instead, he puts the leftovers in a tupperware container and lets the redhead take them home, doesn’t move away when Ian kisses his cheek.

Ian’s new house is definitely much smaller than the previous one and far less overwhelming. It almost looks like something Mickey would pick for himself if he could afford it. It also looks lived-in, like Ian actually took time to pick out the furniture, and he even brought some souvenirs from the countries and states he visited. It makes Mickey feel better about choosing to trust the younger man, since even his house seems to be reflecting the change. The only thing that could be considered out of character is a huge backyard, seemingly much too big for the house.  
“It’s for when I have kids,” Ian admits, cheeks flushed red. It doesn’t shock Mickey, doesn’t even surprise him. They discussed it before, Ian loves children so much that he was already talking about it back when they were teenagers. Mickey wasn’t sure if he knew how to love a child properly, but he hoped Ian would teach him how to be a father.  
“You hoping to adopt soon?”  
“Not soon, no… But I want to be prepared. And I’m leaning towards a surrogate.”  
“Oh, yeah? That’s very celebrity of you,” Mickey scoffs, but he bumps into Ian slightly at the same time to show that he is mostly joking.  
“Well, I was thinking about asking my sister.”  
“You think Fiona will agree?”  
“God, no. She said she already had too many kids when I mentioned it, and she is not going to ruin her body for a baby she won’t even keep. Which is fair. Debbie.”  
“Debbie? Are you out of your fucking mind? She is going to keep the baby and sue you for child support.”  
For a second, Ian looks like he wants to argue, defend his younger sister. And Mickey gets it, he used to be like that too, even though his family was never as close as the Gallaghers. But they all changed, and Debbie is no longer the smart and caring girl they both knew.  
“Fuck, you are right. I’ll have to hire someone then.”  
“You could ask _my_ sister, I’m sure she would agree.”  
“I don’t know, would you agree to that?”  
“Me? The fuck do I have to say about it?”  
“If I’m having a baby, then it’s with you. No one else, but you.”  
Ian’s gaze turns heated, eyes caressing Mickey’s body and reminding him that he chose to wear shorts and a wife beater today because LA gets ridiculously hot. The shorts aren’t as tiny as Ian once had to wear for a music video, but they are significantly shorter than what Mickey would dare to wear in Chicago. And Ian seems to appreciate that, tongue darting out to wet his lips. Mickey takes a step closer, unable to resist the pull any longer, and Ian meets him halfway through, immediately latching onto his lower lip and sucking on it, like he always used to do when they were dating. But Mickey wants more than that, so he pries Ian’s lips open with his tongue, and then lets the redhead dominate the kiss again. He presses his body even closer, molding it against Ian’s front and finding him already half hard. He moans wantonly when Ian’s hands slide down his back to grasp his ass, big enough to cover it completely. Mickey doesn’t remember the last time he was this hot and needy, so he rocks his hips trying to get some friction and makes Ian growl into the kiss.  
“I want to fuck you so hard you’ll cry,” Ian whispers hotly, pulling away from the kiss.  
“Do it, I will cry for you,” Mickey promises, hands already working on Ian’s belt when the younger man stops him.  
“I can’t.”  
“And why the fuck not?”  
“’Cause I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop,” Ian looks heartbroken as he pulls away completely. “What if everything comes back, and I start sleeping around again? I don’t want to be this person anymore.”  
“Did you talk about it with your therapist?” Mickey asks, because it seems like something Ian thought about before.  
“Yeah. She said that I’ve been doing well, and I should trust myself more, but I don’t want to screw up again. I don’t want you to leave, and… fuck, Mick, I don’t want to hurt you.”  
“You might hurt me again,” he says, lowering his voice to sound more calming. “I thought about it a lot and decided to accept that it might happen again. But I… I love you too much to give you up. We don’t have to have sex now, we can wait.”  
“We never had to wait before,” Ian grumbles in shame.  
“There’s lotsa stuff we didn’t do, E. Doesn’t mean we can’t try.”  
“And you are not… you’re not going to fuck other guys… Adam?”  
“No. I will wait for your cock, alright?”  
Ian’s smile is blinding. He steals one last kiss before pulling away completely. Mickey can see how hard Ian is for him, and he wants him in his mouth, deep in his ass. He will wait, but fuck does he want to feel it in him again. He’s been thinking about it a lot, so much that it almost distracts him at work, and he has to masturbate like he is fifteen again. But he can wait if he has to. He can deal, he’s got a full drawer of toys now, and he is going to use them every night, if it means getting his Ian back. Besides, there’s so much more to their relationship than just sex that it would be silly to give up on that just because he can’t get his dick wet as often as he would prefer.  
They end up cuddling on a couch, watching a documentary about horses of all things. Mickey has never even seen a horse in real life before, but it doesn’t stop him from enjoying watching the gentle giants graze in a pasture, while a soothing voice explains the ins and outs of their physiology. Ian’s solid weight next to him definitely elevates the experience.

Mickey doesn’t frequent parties all that often, but every now and then he makes an exception for Joy, who throws parties at least twice a month but knows better than to invite him to all of them. Mickey usually is in no state to help clean up the place, so Joy forces him to come early and help with the food. It’s mostly because Mickey makes a mean pizza.  
When he gets to Joy’s flat he tries to look like he isn’t sore, but Joy’s eyes immediately zero on his hips.  
“I see Ian’s dick is back in action,” Joy grabs the first phallic object he can find – which turns out to be a cucumber, and makes a thrusting motion with it.  
“You are dating a complete idiot,” Mickey deadpans, staring at Sarah.  
“I know. Why do you think I keep him around? He makes me look even smarter than I already am.”  
“Whatever, give me the juicy details,” Joy demands, finally dropping the cucumber and going back to making sandwiches.  
“It’s not… we’re not fucking.”  
“Ooh, was it someone else then? Scandalous!”  
“It was probably one of his humongous dildos,” Sarah says before Mickey can react.  
“How do you know about them?”  
“Remember when my phone was dying, and I asked to borrow your charger? It was in your room, and you forgot to close the drawer properly, so I saw your toys. I am slightly horrified, but impressed at the same time. There’s no way I could use any of them.”  
“Yeah, but you don’t do anal,” Mickey points out. And then he starts wondering when did he become so well-versed in his friends’ sex life.  
“Maybe if I had a magic button up my ass,” Sarah shrugs. “It’s too uncomfortable, but we do just fine without it.”  
“Please, that’s enough.”  
Sarah smirks at him, but she doesn’t give him any further details. For once, even Joy keeps his mouth shut, cheeks slightly flushed, and they go back to preparing food.  
When someone knocks on the door an hour before the party is supposed to start, and Mickey sees Adam when he opens it, he doesn’t know if he is more surprised that apparently Joy also became friends with the singer, or that Adam decided it’s perfectly fine to come much too early.  
“Oh man, I thought you would be late,” Joy says with a smile, clearly not minding the early guest. There aren’t many things that can throw him off.  
“What?”  
“I told him that the party starts around four, because I assumed he would be late. Most stars usually are, your giant redhead always used to be late if you weren’t there to keep an eye on him.”  
“I try not to be too much of an asshole,” Adam says with a smirk. “I also come bearing gifts. I didn’t know what you guys like, so I bought whiskey, since I know that at least Mickey will drink it.”  
“Oh, wow,” Sarah mutters when she sees the labels. “You didn’t have to do that, it’s probably too good for our taste buds anyway.”  
“Is that what rich people do? If I knew that I would have made more rich friends, who would actually come to my parties if I invited them,” Joy takes both bottles from Adam, trying to decide if he should hide them from the rest of the party, only letting the four of them enjoy it.  
“No, they usually come empty-handed, eat all your food and then bitch about it behind your back,” Adam is laughing, but he doesn’t seem to be joking. “So, can I help with something?”  
“You can help me roll out the dough,” Mickey is quick to offer, because he hates doing it himself. That, and he enjoys the way Adam’s arms flex while he works on something. They might not be fucking anymore, but he can still enjoy the visuals.  
Mickey knows Joy invited Ian, but he doesn’t put two and two together until the redhead joins the party, this time only slightly late, and freezes when he sees Adam. He looks torn between throwing hands and crying. Joy is a cunning bitch, Mickey has to give him that.  
Mickey wants to come up to Ian, but he doesn’t want to seem desperate or like he is choosing Ian over Adam. Because he isn’t, it’s not about choosing anyone. Adam might not be a boyfriend-material for him, but he is definitely a best friend material, and Mickey learned to appreciate friendships a lot more since he’s been backstabbed by both a family member and a lover. So he stays put, but smiles at Ian to let him know that he can sit with them.  
The redhead hesitates for a second, but then he takes off his jacket and strides towards them in his too-tight shirt, showing off his ripped body and puffing out his chest like a peacock. He’s been working out a lot, that much is clear, but Mickey can tell from his eyes that he is still feeling insecure, though it probably doesn’t have anything to do with his looks.  
Ian puts a six-pack of beer on the table in front of Mickey, it’s the shitty kind Joy and Sarah hate, and he is sure Adam won’t like it either, so it’s quite obvious Ian brought it for him.  
“Hey guys, it’s been a while,” Ian says, voice slightly shaky.  
“Yeah, I wonder why,” Sarah scoffs, and Mickey remembers that her previous boyfriend fucked around on her for months before he got some chick pregnant and left her in pieces, so when Ian did the same to Mickey, she offered to break his kneecaps. Now that she knows the truth about Ian’s condition she is less angry, but there’s still some lingering bitterness, which Mickey feels as well.  
“You can sit here,” Joy decides to interrupt before his girlfriend says something, patting the free space next to him. If Mickey moved, there would be enough space for Ian to sit next to him, but he doesn’t want to be squeezed between the two larger men he fucked.  
Adam gives Ian a small nod before diving back into the story about some guy he’s been fucking for two weeks, and who already tried to move in. Sometimes, Mickey feels lucky that he isn’t rich because no one tries that with him, they just fuck and go.  
Adam’s arm ends up around his shoulders, and he doesn’t shake it off even when Ian’s expression turns sour. After all, it doesn’t even compare to everything Ian pulled him through in the past. A little bit of jealousy never hurt nobody, and the redhead will have to get used to the thought that Adam is not going to disappear now that Ian is back in the picture. Adam apparently likes to touch his friends a lot, and while Mickey isn’t good with strangers touching him, Adam isn’t a stranger anymore, and his touch is oddly soothing.  
The conversation flows smoothly between the five of them, with Joy sometimes going off to talk to his other guests, but there’s an underlying tension that makes Mickey squirm in his seat. Finally, he goes to the kitchen pretending that he wants more ice, closing the door behind himself to get some peace. He opens the window and lights up a cigarette, enjoying the light evening wind, since he always gets hot when he is drinking. Peace and quiet don’t last long, but he is still surprised that Ian managed to give him over five minutes before joining him. The redhead is impatient to the core. Mickey watches him from the corner of the eye, smirking when Ian tries to act cool, hands in his pockets and a bored look on his face. He is decent at it now, but Mickey knows him too well to fall for that.  
“I forgot how much Joy likes people.”  
Mickey rolls his eyes at Ian’s bullshit, “Fuck you. You are the same.”  
“No, I… not anymore, I guess. I don’t really like big crowds anymore.”  
“Too much temptation?”  
“Something like that,” Ian steals his cigarette, and Mickey retaliates by pinching his side. “I remember Adam being slimmer.”  
“What?”  
“He is pretty big, you know?”  
“Big how?” Mickey lowers his voice, hoping Ian will get a hint and shut up.  
“Uh, pretty fat? I mean, he is still hot, but...”  
“You know what else is fat? His cock. His huge, fat cock and knows how to use it. Filled me up real good, rammed me so hard I saw fucking stars.”  
Ian stiffens next to him and then grabs his arm, long fingers painfully digging into his skin.  
“What the fuck, Mickey?!”  
“No, what the fuck, Ian?” Mickey turns to face him, jerking away from his grip. “You don’t get to come here and offend my friend because you suddenly decided to be a jealous bitch.”  
“Your fuckbuddy, you mean,” Ian growls spitefully.  
“No, I mean my friend, and if you have a problem with that, then you can fuck right off.”  
“I’m fucking trying! I am, but I can’t do it if you’re going to jerk me around!”  
“I’m jerking you around? I already fucking told you I’m not sleeping with anyone else, and I’m not the one who lied for fucking months!”  
“Don’t act like you are such a saint ‘cause you were sleeping around too!”  
“Yeah, because you gave me no choice,” Mickey says tiredly. “I would never step out on you if you weren’t fucking everything that breathes. It doesn’t matter, just… Don’t be a bitch to Adam. He is a good friend, and I’m not letting you fat shame him. Jesus, you already forgot how messed up you were after some fans posted pictures of you from the ‘Loudness’ set and argued online whether you put on weight or not? Because I fucking do, you hit the gym so hard I was worried you’ll have a fucking heart attack. And now you’re doing the same thing to someone else? That’s fucking low.”  
Ian seems to realize his mistake, and he reaches out again, but this time his touch is gentle as he strokes Mickey’s wrist in an apology. “I’m sorry. I just… got jealous because he is so close to you, I keep thinking about you and him in bed. You aren’t like that with men who aren’t Joy, and Joy is safe because he is straight.”  
“Listen to me, you idiot. I’m not going to fuck him again, but you have to get used to seeing him. He likes to touch his friends, you need to learn to live with that, it’s not like he is around often anyway, since he tours with Queen a lot. If you can’t then you have to leave before this thing between us goes any further.”  
“I will try, I will try,” Ian whispers furiously, green eyes suspiciously glassy.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay, but things are rough atm.

Mickey researches sex addiction online because he needs to know what he is getting into. The dry information he gets isn’t that bad, he can process it without getting emotional. But when he finds a forum with real people who are living the life of a sex addict, it suddenly becomes too much. They remind him of Ian and his lies, but they also give him the insight into a mind of someone addicted, shows him how disgusted some sex addicts are with themselves, and he needs to take a break from reading because he doesn’t want Ian to be hurting like that. Mickey wants him to regret his actions, to grovel a bit, promise to do better because he respects Mickey, but he can’t stand the thought of Ian hating himself. Even Mickey never really hated him, no matter how much he was hurting himself.  
He really shouldn’t be reading about it in the middle of the night, because he finds himself ringing the doorbell to Ian’s house at two in the morning, dressed in a ratty t-shirt and shorts. Ian opens looking slightly frazzled with wild hair and rubbing his eyes tiredly.  
“Mick? What are you doing here so late? Is everything okay?”  
“I needed to see you,” Mickey is sure he isn’t hiding his distress well because Ian is already reaching out to comfort him.  
“Have you been drinking? Drugs?”  
“What? Fuck, no, I had one beer, that’s not… We need to talk.”  
“Right now? Are you… are you going to break it off completely? Because of what I did last week?”  
“No, Jesus. We can talk in the morning, just let me spend the night. I needed to see you.”  
“Okay, you can sleep in...”  
“Your bed! But we’re not fucking. And don’t touch me. Just let me be in the same room.”  
Mickey’s anxious behavior must be freaking Ian out, but he doesn’t ask any more questions, probably realizing that he won’t get any answers out of him.  
It’s only when Mickey is safely tucked in Ian’s bed that he realizes how much he is acting like an overly emotional teenager, but he’s never been good at managing his own emotions. At least it’s better than completely shutting off like he used to do when Terry was around, and he calms down quickly enough, surrounded by Ian’s smell and his presence next to him. They aren’t touching yet, but Mickey knows they will wake up tangled with each other. He is itching to touch the younger man, to make sure he truly is alright, but he is still too proud to do that. He can wait until morning, when he will be able to pretend like he didn’t want it.  
He is right because some things don’t change. Ian probably has a fancy blinds system, but it can’t do much if not used properly, so it’s the sun filtering through the window that wakes Mickey up much too early. That, and the heavy weight on his back, this time very much real and physical. It’s been a while since he felt it, so he continues to breathe evenly, pretending to be asleep just in case the redhead isn’t. There’s a hardness near his ass that he knows all to well, grinding into him slowly, almost imperceptibly, but Mickey feels all of it, and his body responds to the stimulation. He can’t help but groan quietly and thrust back slightly.  
“I want you so much,” Ian moans, lips brushing against the shell of Mickey’s ear.  
“Don’t start something you ain’t gonna finish,” he murmurs, reaching behind to find Ian’s hand. Instead, he finds his butt cheek and gives it a good squeeze to show that he doesn’t quite mind.  
“Fuck, you are right. Breakfast and then we will have a heart to heart, or do you want to tell me what’s wrong before we eat?”  
“I need some food in me before I embarrass myself.”  
“Got it,” Ian kisses the nape of his neck before he gets up and leaves the room. Mickey uses the few minutes of solitude to collect his thoughts to make the conversation as painless as possible. Which doesn’t really seem like an option, but he can try.  
By the time he joins Ian in the kitchen, the redhead has a whole feast going with waffles, eggs, bacon and so much fruit they could feed a kindergarten. Mickey doesn’t need much, especially for breakfast. Give him a poptart and some coffee, and he is good to go, since that’s still more than he usually got in Chicago. But he can tell that Ian is trying, so he eats as much as he can, and by the end of the meal he is so full that he is sure it will be hours before he can move again.  
“Do you want cake?”  
“Cake? Ian, we just ate. Are you trying to keep my mouth busy, so we don’t have to talk about the reason I’m here?”  
Ian’s lips say ‘no’, but his face screams ‘yes’, and it would be cute, if he didn’t look so damn sad.  
“I already told you I’m not breaking it off, so relax,” he takes a deep breath, trying to follow his own advice. “Yesterday, I was… I decided to read up on sex addiction.”  
“Oh. Fuck. I… didn’t expect that.”  
“Yeah, well. I want to help, so I gotta know more, right? I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal, but then I found a forum for sex addicts, and... I don’t know, fuck, I guess I want to know how you’re dealing with it. Do you… hate yourself?”  
Ian is quiet for a few seconds, staring at Mickey thoughtfully. “Sometimes I do. I think about everything I did to you, and I hate myself to the core. But in the end… it motivates me to do better rather than give up. I’m not sure if I would be able to do it, if I was doing it just for myself, but you’re my biggest motivation. I know I’m hurting myself too, but it’s more real when someone else is suffering because of my actions. The forums you found… I’m sure some people find them helpful, but my experiences with them weren’t the best.”  
“Yeah? Why?”  
“Some forums are just circles of self-pity, they keep complaining how difficult it is and how sad it makes them, and that shit would make me feel even worse about myself. Then there were dudes who’d try to make it seem like it’s not a big deal and talked as if it was their partners’ fault they became sex addicts. Which is bullshit, so don’t even think about it. I think that deep down they knew they were wrong and were trying to convince others, so that they’d feel better about themselves.”  
“Huh. That’s pretty shitty for those who are looking for help.”  
“Yeah. And then there was my ‘favorite’ group of all. Gay guys who were trying to hook up with me under the guise of helping me deal with it. They’d start by DMing me to share their experiences, because most guys on the main forum were straight, and it was nice, at first, talking to someone who understands it completely. Then they’d try to get me to meet them in real life, because two sex addicts together make sense, right? Free access to someone as eager as you twenty-four seven.”  
“Weren’t they right?” Mickey asks, because it does seem smart.  
“No, because it doesn’t really solve the problem, does it? They were trying to avoid taking responsibility for their actions by being with someone like them. They’d rather base their whole relationship on sex just to avoid trying to control their urges. That’s a cop out if I ever saw one, and I didn’t want that,” Ian shakes his head at the memory. “And then there was the fact that I’m famous, I couldn’t risk it. Even now I’m not ready to talk about it publicly, and I was definitely not ready back then.”  
Mickey stands up and moves closer to Ian, leaning against his side.  
“So what did you do?”  
“I have a therapist, as you already know,” Ian casually drapes his arm over Mickey’s shoulders. “But she recommended the treatment center in bumfuck Alabama at first, and I went there for almost a month. Everyone has to sign the NDA before they get there, so I knew I was safe. I didn’t want to do group meetings outside of the center because I was worried they wouldn’t keep their mouths shut, so this was perfect. Well, almost, because I was surrounded by guys.”  
“Are the guys the only one who get this?”  
“No, they are trying to lower the temptation by separating the addicts by gender, but I’m gay, so that didn’t work all that well.”  
“You fucked anyone there?”  
“No, but I wanted to almost every single day.”  
“They were all straight?”  
“Fuck, no. There was one gay dude on the staff and at least one curious guy in my group, but they were watching us closely. It was just the beginning of my journey, so I probably would’ve fucked them given the chance. Thankfully, I didn’t get it.”  
“And it helped?”  
“Yeah, more than I thought it would. I came back and continued seeing my therapist. She tried different approaches with me before we found what works best. I’m sick of self-control exercises, but they work, so I can’t complain too much. We discussed medication, but she isn’t too keen on the idea. I still think about it sometimes.”  
“Wait, what medication? You’re not mentally ill!”  
“It would lower my sex drive.”  
“Absolutely not,” Mickey shakes his head. “You can do it without experimenting with drugs.”  
“That’s what my therapist says, but I don’t always believe her. And it’s not like my dick would be completely limp, I’d still be able to...”  
“Don’t even fucking finish. I don’t care if you can fuck me or not. You are smarter than me, you know that this shit is going to slowly ruin your guts, you’re not risking that.”  
“At least I wouldn’t want to fuck everything that moves!”  
“Why are we even arguing about it? Your therapist says you’re doing fine, don’t you trust her judgment?”  
“I do,” Ian grumbles, but he doesn’t loosen his hold on Mickey. “But I’m not having sex, so I don’t know what’s going to happen once I start.”  
“We will deal with it when the time comes,” Mickey snuggles up to the redhead, shamelessly using the affection to convince him that he is wrong. “Look, if at some point you’ll think you’re completely out of control then you’ll try the meds, but for now let’s stick to what your therapist’s advice, alright?”  
“Okay,” Ian agrees, and Mickey can only hope it’s because he feels that way, and not because he wants to placate Mickey.

There’s nothing interesting in the recording studio to focus on, and Mickey finds himself staring at the brown wall. For some reason they are always either brown or straight up black, and it makes him wonder whether it has something to do with the creative process. He wouldn’t know, just like he doesn’t really get how people can take random melodies and sounds, and put them together to make something pleasant to the ear.  
Mickey is bored, but Ian is working on a new album, so yeah, he isn’t going to leave. He should have known that the off-time Ian was talking about didn’t really equal vacation. He doesn’t really contribute anything, so he doesn’t know why the redhead requested his presence. Maybe it’s because they’ve been apart for a long time, and Ian wants to spend as much time with him as possible. At least that’s why Mickey agreed to come. Just being together is nice, even if he would never admit it out loud. Ian’s large hand is resting on top oh his thigh, and he is enjoying the physical contact, no matter how small it is.  
“This song I’m working on right now,” Ian suddenly says, bringing Mickey out of his reverie, “it’s called ‘Soar’. I wrote it only two weeks ago, but it’s going to be promoting the album. It’s about us.”  
“Like ‘Broken promise’ was?” he doesn’t mean to attack Ian, but it seems like that anyway.  
“Yes, except it’s the exact opposite. It’s my apology. I figured that it’s only fair after I wrote ‘Broken promise’. Sometimes… it’s easier for me to say certain things through songs.”  
“Can I listen to it now?”  
“No, it’s not ready. I want it to be perfect before I present it to you, and I didn’t record the vocals yet.”  
“You gonna take a break now?”  
“Mhm, then I’ll have to call Rick to help me with the vocals, and you’ll have to go home, so you don’t hear it too soon.”  
Mickey nods in agreement, but he isn’t really listening anymore, already moving sit on Ian’s lap, facing him.  
“You want something?” Ian teases with a smile, then whines when Mickey runs a hand through his hair to loosen up the gel and free the curls, then yanks him closer for a filthy kiss that’s ninety percent tongue. He sucks on Ian’s tongue wishing it was his cock, and the redhead seems to get the meaning behind it, sliding his hands down Mickey’s body to open his fly. He tugs Mickey’s jeans down along with the underwear, stopping mid-thigh. But when Mickey tries to unzip his pants, Ian stops him, guiding his hands to his broad shoulders instead.  
“No, I’ll make you feel good.”  
And Mickey wants to object because his pleasure isn’t the only one that should count, but in the end he doesn’t say a thing, not wanting to push Ian too far. He isn’t the one who has issues with sex, so he will let the younger man set the boundaries.  
Ian reaches for the hand cream he keeps in the studio, and Mickey is relieved to see there’s no proper lube here. The redhead gives him a wicked smile before liberally coating two of his long fingers with cream and slowly pushing them inside Mickey, knowing that the older man can take it.  
“I missed you so much,” Mickey whispers, always more willing to talk in intimate moments. He rocks his hips, riding Ian’s hand, his cock already deep red and hard. Ian has that effect on him, and after so long without the redhead he could probably come just from having his ass played with. So when Ian wraps his pretty lips around the head of his dick, Mickey keens loudly, digging his fingers into his lover’s skin, almost ready to cum. His brain switches off completely, and all he can think about is the warm tongue pressing against the underside of his cock as Ian sucks him off enthusiastically, and the fingers – now three, stretching him almost brutally, insistently rubbing against his prostate. His moans seem incredibly loud in the otherwise quiet studio, but he couldn’t care less, especially when Ian presses the tip of his tongue just inside the urethra. Mickey finds himself exploding all over Ian’s lips and chin, not even realizing he was this close. Ian pumps his fingers until Mickey is completely spent, before withdrawing and wiping them clean on Mickey’s shirt.  
“That was faster than I expected.”  
“Fuck off, it’s been years,” Mickey grumbles and leans down to kiss the redhead again. Then, because he is in a good mood, he cleans the cum off Ian’s face with his tongue, enjoying the dark, heated look it earns him. Cum-eating was never on Mickey’s kink list, but he used to indulge the younger man every now and then. “Want me to take care of your problem? I miss having it in my throat.”  
“Ah… No, it’s fine. I can’t, not yet, okay? I want you so much, but I can’t.”  
“So what, you’re going to jerk off in the bathroom like a sad prick?”  
Ian snorts and pinches his nipple, ignoring Mickey’s offended yelp. “Rude, but no, I’ll just will it away.”  
“See, you got this.”  
They smile at each other like sappy teenage girls before Ian remember that he still has some work to do, and Mickey begrudgingly agrees to go home and make dinner for later. They aren’t living together, that’s something Mickey definitely isn’t ready for yet, and probably won’t be ready for a long time, but Ian spends a lot of time at his place. Sometimes, he stays the night. It always ends with awkward boners in the morning, Ian quickly disappearing in the bathroom to cool down. Mickey assumed the other man was jerking off, but now he knows he was wrong.  
They don’t do anything exciting or new, and yet Mickey finds himself happier than he’s been in the past few years. It’s almost like they are back in Chicago, except this time they don’t have to hide from Terry, and Mickey doesn’t get angry every time someone as much as hints at him being gay, since he is out and mostly proud.  
He isn’t even going to pretend that Ian isn’t the source of his happiness, because that would be a big, fat lie, and Mickey accepted long time ago that there’s no point in lying to himself. The way he sees it – if he wasn’t able to completely forget and get over Ian after few years and many different dicks, then he might as well give him another chance and enjoy it. And none of his friends seems against it, so it probably means he isn’t making a huge mistake. But even if he is, if Ian is going to stomp all over his love again, he knows he would regret not trying far more than breaking up for the second, and final, time. If it even comes to that, which he hopes it doesn’t. They’re both trying, and that’s already more than Ian has done in the past.


	6. Chapter 6

Mickey doesn’t mute his phone for the night, because no one in the right mind would call him at night for no good reason – he might be living in LA, but his last name is still Milkovich and that counts for something. That’s why he always picks up, no matter how late it is. Especially when it’s Joy calling, who earned the right to his own ringtone.  
Mickey’s eyes are still closed when he answers Joy’s call at four in the morning. It’s not weird for his friend to be up at this hour, seeing as the bar he works at usually closes at six in the morning if they are busy.  
“Mmm?” he mumbles.  
“I’m going to text you a link in a second. Debbie Gallagher fucked up big time, you gotta watch this, it’s about Ian.”  
That’s enough to have Mickey alert and anxious. Joy hangs up and few seconds later he gets a message with a link to a Youtube video. It’s only two minutes long, but the number of views suggests it must be something big. It’s a part of the Instagram livestream, and Debbie is clearly drunk, sitting behind the wheel in a dark car. She isn’t driving, but even without reading the comments Mickey knows people are going to be mad about it, because there’s a possibility of her driving. Debbie’s voice filters through the speaker, and he has to turn down the volume, since the girl is really loud when she is drunk. Her speech is slurred and someone actually put up the subtitles, but Mickey has enough experience with drunkards to understand her.  
 _”You always ask me about Ian, he is doing fine, still rich as fuck,”_ even in the dark Mickey can tell she is rolling her eyes, ungrateful little twat. She’d still be in Chicago, working her ass off at some dingy restaurant, if it wasn’t for Ian’s influence. _”There’s this sex thing, but rich people can make everything seem normal, am I right? Even sleeping around, cheating and ruining… shit! Never mind, he is good.”_ Debbie, who even in her drunken state realizes she said too much, moves on to another topic and the video ends there. Mickey closes the browser and quickly texts Ian to ask if he should come over. When he doesn’t receive a reply within fifteen minutes he gets dressed and calls for a taxi. It could be that Ian is still asleep and unaware of what is happening, but Mickey doubts that’s the case. He knows that Ian’s new manager is a scarily efficient workaholic.  
He is right. A girl he doesn’t know opens the door, and she must know him because she just lets him in without a question. He finds Ian and his manager, Maya, in the living room. The redhead looks haggard, like he had few drinks too many and didn’t sleep them off. He stands up when he sees Mickey, coming up to him and enveloping him in a hug. Mickey is smaller, quite a bit shorter, but Ian knows how to make himself small to fit into his arms.  
“Ian said you’d come,” Maya says. “We’re trying to decide on the course of action.”  
“What are the options?” he asks, rocking Ian slightly like a baby.  
“Since Debbie didn’t give away enough for people to know for sure what Ian is dealing with, we can try and say that she was drunk and angry at Ian, and she tried to get back at him. It wouldn’t exactly be a lie, and everyone knows, or at least suspects, that Ian cheated on someone, so it doesn’t worry me.”  
“As if she has any right to be angry at Ian, after everything he did for her,” Mickey grunts, hackles rising. “What else?”  
“We could tell the press Ian went on a bit of a bender. It wouldn’t shock anyone, since that’s what people expect of famous musicians anyway, and people still remember that Ian used to sleep around quite a bit,” the girl who opened the door says. “We haven’t met yet, I’m Ian’s assistant, Luka.”  
“Or we could reveal the truth,” Maya takes over again. “Get him an interview on Ellen, turn it into a bit of a sob story, make people feel sorry for him. It’s not like he committed a crime.”  
“But I wanted it to be on my terms,” Ian growls, pulling away from the hug. “I wanted to decide when I come out clean, but my own fucking sister screwed it up for me!”  
“I know it’s unfair,” Mickey says softly, putting his hand on the nape of Ian’s neck, “but maybe it’s for the best? Be honest, when do you think you’d be ready to tell your fans about it? In a year? Three years? Never?”  
And Ian doesn’t respond verbally, he just shrugs, because they both know that it wouldn’t be anytime soon, not with how ashamed the redhead is of his addiction. While not happy about the situation Ian found himself in, Mickey doesn’t think it’s the worst that could happen. He is still mad at Debbie and will give her the piece of his mind when he sees her, but it’s not as bad as Ian might think. There’s no way Ian’s fans will give up on him because of something like that. If anything, they will admire him for working hard to better himself. And if some of them leave… well, fuck them.  
Maya continues to reassure Ian for a while and gives them a rough idea of how and when everything can be done. Mickey doesn’t contribute much since he is out of his depth, but Ian seems to appreciate his presence.  
“Try to sleep on it,” Maya advises. “It’s not the end of the world, believe me. I’ve seen worse.”  
They all did, but it always feels worse when it’s personal. Ian is too keyed up to go to sleep, so he paces around the living room and rants about Debbie’s ungratefulness while Mickey watches him in silence. Ian doesn’t even notice when he goes to the kitchen to make tea – coffee would be too much, and he is still hoping they will get some sleep. He finds a whole shelf of herbal teas, which makes him think Ian drinks them often when he is getting anxious or maybe too aroused. He looks through all of them to find Ian’s favorite, and by the time the tea is ready the redhead calmed down a little bit and is sitting on a couch, texting someone with a grim expression on his face.  
“You sure you ain’t gonna regret those messages?”  
“Maybe. But probably not, I’m texting Debbie.”  
“I guessed that much.”  
Ian’s lips are still pressed into a thin line, but his shoulders are slightly more relaxed. He gestures for Mickey to join him on the couch.  
“It’s so fucking weird that Fiona, Lip, Debbie… even Liam turned into fucking leeches, while Carl is the only one doing something useful with his life. He got promoted recently.”  
“Yeah, I know.”  
“You do?”  
“Mhm, we keep in touch.”  
“Seriously? I didn’t know that, he never said anything. I mean, he did try to tear me a new one after we broke up, but he never mentioned talking to you after that.”  
Mickey makes a mental note to thank the younger Gallagher later. And to never tell Ian that it’s Carl who told him about the NDAs. It was the right thing to do, but the redhead could see it differently.  
“He’s a good kid, good friend.”  
“But he didn’t tell you about my problem?”  
“We never talked about you, man, I didn’t want to think about you too much. I asked him about it recently, and he said that it was your job to explain it.”  
“When did he get so fucking wise?”  
“That’s what I said! Okay, wanna go to bed now?”  
The sun is already rising, so Mickey makes sure to tightly close the blinds. He does it manually because he has no idea where the remote is, and Ian is in the bathroom, brushing his teeth. Mickey doesn’t have anywhere to be later today, and it’s a good thing because he is dead tired and needs at least four hours of sleep to function like a proper human being, if he ever was one in the first place which is still debatable.  
He checks his phone, something he hasn’t done in a few hours, and finds two messages from Joy, one asking if Ian is alright and another asking about _him_. Mickey doesn’t know why he wouldn’t be okay, but he replies anyway because Joy will worry otherwise. Almost immediately, he receives a thumbs up emoji and a middle finger one, whatever that’s supposed to mean. Joy is probably letting him know he waited too long to reply, since he is a soft needy bitch.  
“They want to use you as a part of my redemption story. They told me before you came. Maya was afraid you’d throw a fit if she told you, so she left it for me,” Ian quietly admits once they are both settled in the bed, Mickey spooning him from behind. “She wants me to tell the world we were dating before everything happened, I started the treatment for you, so you forgave me after some time, and now we’re together again. So kind of the truth, but slightly prettier and more palatable for most people.”  
“No, absolutely not,” Mickey doesn’t even have to think about it. There’s no way he will allow the whole world to pick apart his relationship like he knows it would. “It was bad enough when people pitied me after ‘Broken promise’, and they didn’t even know it was me back then. Now they will either pity me or think I’m some sort of a pushover. It will be fucking humiliating.”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“What the fuck are you apologizing for now?”  
“I’m sorry you have to go through this because of me again. We aren’t even properly back together yet, and...”  
“Hold up! We are together, we’re just taking things slow. I have to learn to trust you again, and you have to trust yourself too, but we’re a couple, okay? Exclusive, and all that shit. One thing though, I understand that this… disorder makes you feel different, but if you ever decide to use it as an excuse to freely cheat we’ll be done, no more chances. I understand that you might slip up, but...”  
“Oh. Oh! Of course, I will be good for you,” Ian sounds happy for the first time this extremely early morning, and Mickey is glad he waited to clarify the issue. It seemed obvious to him after they made out, but Ian always liked everything to be verbalized to avoid any misunderstandings.  
“But we’re still not telling them everything. I know someone is bound to find out that we basically grew up together, but they don’t have to know the whole thing. I’m not sure if I want everyone to know my name, but if they really want to push the boyfriend angle we can tell them we’ve been friends for a long time, and that we recently decided to give being together a shot.”  
“After you helped me manage my addiction.”  
“I didn’t...”  
“You did,” Ian says with conviction, so Mickey just nods, knowing that the younger man will feel it. They don’t talk much after that, and he waits for Ian’s breath to even out before he lets himself fall asleep as well.  
They wake up five hours later, and there already is an update from Maya waiting for them. Ian reads through the email while Mickey makes lunch.  
“Debbie is in deep shit.”  
“Your fans hating on her?”  
“It’s not that, at least I hope they aren’t. She did me dirty, but online bullying is nasty as fuck. Maya texted that someone must have contacted DCFS because they are on her ass.”  
“Why?”  
“You know she was drunk and in the car, right?”  
Mickey hums in acknowledgment.  
“Well, some people think she was in her driveway, they recognized the rose bush they could see behind her, or something like that. It’s a bit crazy, if you ask me. Anyway, they are wondering where Franny was, since Debbie is a single mom, and she isn’t dating anyone at the moment. They think Debbie was drinking while taking care of Franny and left the house for some time, leaving her alone.”  
“Maybe Franny was with a babysitter?”  
“Maybe. I hope that’s the case for Franny’s sake, but knowing Debbie? Whoever made the complaint is probably right.”  
“She can always lie and say Fiona was taking care of the kid, ‘cause I don’t think anyone else would be willing to lie for her.”  
“Yeah, but that’s only if Fiona wasn’t out partying last night and didn’t get photographed by the paps again. One way or another, Debbie must be shitting her pants if she called Maya. I don’t give a fuck,” Ian mutters darkly. “I’m not giving her any ideas, she will have to figure it out herself.”  
“Maya won’t help her?”  
“I told her not to. Debbie needs to learn to take fucking responsibility for her actions.”  
Mickey transfers veggies from the steamer onto a plate, places a steak next to it and puts it in front of Ian, “Okay, eat up, Darth Vader, you will feel better once you’re full.”  
Mickey doesn’t remember if his own mother had ever been completely sober when she was still around, probably not. But she was a decent mom anyway, even if she wouldn’t protect them from Terry, so he finds it difficult to imagine that Debbie is bad enough to deserve her kid being taken away. He is not going to tell Ian that, because he understands where the redhead is coming from, especially since he knows exactly knows exactly what it's like when your own sister backstabs you. But he once read somewhere that the punishment needs to fit the crime to be effective, and it doesn’t seem to be the case here. Even if Debbie is a bitch to her brother most of the time.  
“Anything else from Maya?”  
“Oh, yeah, I’m on Ellen this Thursday.”  
“That gives us five… well, four days to prepare. Damn, she works fast.”  
“Fuck, I’m not sure if I want Thursday to be now or never.”  
“It’s going to be fine, Ian. It’s all scripted, right? She is not going to ask you anything you didn’t agree on beforehand.”  
There was a time Mickey had no idea who Ellen was, but now he doesn’t even have to think twice when Ian throws around names of different hosts and their programs. He might not be able to recognize them if he sees them, but he sure as hell knows their names and what they specialize in.  
“Can you take some time off this week?” Ian suddenly asks, and Mickey’s first reaction is to agree. But that would go against what he promised himself – to take care of himself first and whoever he is dating second. He is no longer in the position where he can take time off his job and no one will even notice his absence. There are people depending on him, and however stressful Ian’s situation might be, it’s not an emergency.  
“No, man, we’re too busy at the moment.”  
“Oh.”  
He understands Ian’s surprise and maybe even disappointment, because that never happened before, but he is not going to budge. He stands up to kiss Ian’s temple and then collects the dirty plates to put in the dishwasher. “I’ll come over after work, though.”  
“Everyday?”  
“Of course.”  
“That’s fine, thank you.”


	7. Chapter 7

The script Maya prepared, because there is a literal, physical script, is foolproof. If Mickey was Ian’s fan, or even someone who doesn’t care for him but happens to see his interview, he wouldn’t think poorly of the redhead after hearing what he has to say. It’s not entirely true, but it’s true enough that he doesn’t think anyone will question it. It’s moving without being obnoxiously maudlin, although to Mickey it feels far more personal. Ian is going to reveal his name, but there won’t be any pictures or identifying details. Mickey knows someone will sniff him out anyway, but at least it’s not going to happen overnight. It seems to calm Ian down, although Maya still delivers anti-anxiety medication just in case it gets too much for either of them.  
On Tuesday, Mickey comes to Ian’s house late. One of the interns fucked up and everyone else had to work hard to make up for his mistake before the show, since small mistakes often make for big issues. Especially when the stage they are building is supposed to support thirty people dancing at the same time. He is more than tired, unsure if he is going to be good company, but Ian tells him to come over anyway and surprises him with a homemade dinner. Mickey can tell it’s truly homemade because not all of the mashed potatoes are completely mashed, and the chicken is a bit bland, but that can be fixed with some BBQ sauce. He isn’t a picky eater, he couldn’t be with the way he’s been raised. Ian lets him drink one beer, which is a bit weird considering he never tried to control Mickey’s alcohol intake before.  
“I’ve got something else planned,” he says when Mickey asks him about it, “and I want us to be completely sober for it.”  
Mickey could have at least two more beers and still be sober, but it’s not something worth arguing about. After dinner Ian takes him to his office, which is just a small, sparsely furnished room with a desk and two chairs, one of them being a rocking chair Mickey doesn’t remember from the previous house. He doesn’t quite understand why Ian needs an office since he already has a home studio, but the redhead claims to need it for songwriting.  
“I’m able to focus better without any of the equipment around me,” Ian shrugs, “c’mere.”  
Ian pulls him in for a kiss, and Mickey goes easily, letting the redhead control the kiss. He wasn’t that submissive in the past, but it seems to put the other man at ease, and he finds that he doesn’t mind it when Ian’s tongue explores him deeply, while his hands roam over his neck and back, slowly sliding down to cup his ass.  
“I want to make love to you,” Ian mutters into the kiss and follows it with a bite.  
“You sure?”  
“More than ever. In two days millions of people will hear that I got my life under control, and I don’t want to be lying about that.”  
Mickey initiates another kiss then, this one far more hungry to show how ready he is to have Ian’s fingers and cock deep inside again.  
“You ever had sex in a rocking chair before?” Ian asks with a sly grin.  
“No, have you?” Mickey tries not to sound jealous, but he isn’t sure he pulls it off.  
“Nope, I was waiting for you. That’s why I bought it.”  
It sounds like cheesy bullshit, but Mickey doesn’t voice his thoughts. Instead, he lets Ian lead him to the chair. The redhead sits down and tells him to strip, while he pulls out his own dick and starts jacking off. Between the two of them it was always Ian who was more into showing off his body to spice things up, but Mickey finds himself slowly unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off, eyes glued to the pink head of Ian’s cock peeking out from his fist on every downstroke. He even sways his hips slightly as he unzips and pulls down his pants along with the underwear, hard dick springing out and smacking against his stomach.  
Mickey knows his body isn’t as cut as Ian’s, his stomach was always on the soft side, even if his arms were rock hard from physical work. But Ian’s eyes light up like he’s been gifted a present, and his gaze feels like a caress when he takes in Mickey’s body before his hands follow, gently touching Mickey’s hips and lower belly, making him shiver. He can do sexy when someone looks at him like that. He feels sexy with Ian’s eyes on him Mickey slides his hand down his own body and touches his cock, jerking it few times and moaning wantonly. He slowly licks his bottom lip, knowing that it always got Ian hot and bothered.  
Ian pulls out a small bottle of lube from the pocket of his jeans, and Mickey barks out a surprised laugh. The younger man really had everything planned.  
“You wanna prep me or should I do it myself?”  
“I wanna touch you inside,” Ian murmurs, already slicking up his fingers and pushing his hand between Mickey’s thighs, forcing them open. Mickey grunts when two fingers breach him at the same time, but it’s nothing he can’t handle, and Ian knows that. Even when Mickey isn’t dating or hooking up with random men, he plays with his ass when he masturbates, and he does that a lot. So he welcomes the slight burn that accompanies every push and twist that comes with Ian stretching him open.  
Ian looks focused, like he is working on a very demanding task, eyebrows furrowed and lips slightly parted. Mickey runs his fingers through Ian’s curls, mussing them up further and getting him to look up. His cheeks are flushed, and he is so fucking gorgeous that Mickey’s heart stops. He needs a kiss and he gets it, their lips meet with a bruising force and he moans shamelessly, coaxing Ian’s tongue inside his mouth to suck on it.  
He barely notices the third finger, but he definitely notices when Ian pulls him even closer, helping him sit on his lap and carefully replacing his fingers with his cock. They should be using a rubber, Mickey knows that, but he doesn’t want to do it. He will deal with the consequences later, if there are any.  
He never had any problems mounting a dick before, no matter how big it was, but the rocking chair makes him work for it more. But he can definitely see and feel the perks it brings once he is seated, he doesn’t have to work nearly half as hard as he usually does when he is riding someone. He plants his feet on the floor and starts rocking his hips slightly, and the chair does the rest for him. He is building up a steady rhythm, enjoying the delicious burn and the intense way Ian is staring at him, when the younger man suddenly grabs his hips to slow him down.  
“Let’s go slow,” Ian says hesitantly.  
“W-why?” he whines because he missed being fucked by this man, by this cock.  
“My therapist suggested that the slower, drawn-out sex might help curb my appetite. We don’t have to do it like that every time, but I want to enjoy our first time after… everything that happened a bit longer.”  
Mickey never really held a conversation while being fucked, especially with Ian. It was always hard and fast, leaving him too out of it to form a coherent thought. But he doesn’t mind it as much as he thought he would, the slow rocking makes him feel _everything_ , and he’s never been so full before. Ian’s cock rubs against his prostate with every little move, going almost too deep inside him.  
“We can do that,” he sighs, pretending to be annoyed, but Ian sees right through it and punishes him with a well-aimed thrust that makes him see white.  
They rock against each other slowly, Ian pulls him even closer, so they’re tightly pressed chest to chest, the material of Ian’s shirt rubbing against Mickey’s nipples. He can feel the clasp of Ian’s belt under his right thigh, and the jeans are slightly rough on the sensitive skin of his thighs and ass. But there is something incredibly sexy about being naked while Ian is completely dressed and in control. Mickey might be on top, but it’s Ian who is guiding his movements, setting up the pace. He is also muttering filthy things, but Mickey can’t really focus anymore as the pressure increases and the cock inside him seems to swell even more.  
He is vaguely aware of the needy, breathy moans that escape him, but he really can’t stop himself. He lifts himself a little bit and slams down, Ian’s balls loudly slapping against his ass.  
“Fuck, again,” Ian whispers hotly, and Mickey eagerly repeats the movement. Ian’s cock is so deep that it feels like Mickey has been made just to sheathe it, and he starts bouncing, wanting to hear the redhead. He is rewarded with low, animalistic groans and fingers digging into his meaty ass to steady him.  
Mickey’s cock is deep red and swollen, steadily dripping thick precum and leaving wet spots on Ian’s shirt. He doesn’t care about the embarrassing mess when a large cock is stretching him out so well, and he knows he is going to cum just from rubbing against Ian’s muscled stomach. He barely notices Ian licking and sucking on his tongue and lower lip.  
The pleasure is building up inside him, and when he finally comes, it’s not the usual, abrupt explosion. Instead, it feels like the first sip of water after weeks on a desert, almost paralyzing his senses.  
“Ah, ah, ah,” he whines, his body shaking and shivering as his cock shoots ropes of cum all over their stomachs. The redhead holds him through it, and when Mickey comes to himself again, Ian stands up, his grip almost bruising as he makes sure not to drop him. The show of strength makes Mickey’s dick twitch, but he has nothing more to give. Ian presses him against the desk and starts fucking into him with fast and sharp thrusts reminiscent of their early fucks. Every thrust feels like an electric shock with how oversensitive Mickey’s body is, but Ian ignores his weak moans, focusing solely on chasing his own orgasm.  
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he growls against Mickey’s throat, pumping into his ass with zero finesse.  
“Jesus,” Mickey mutters when Ian’s swollen dick roughly rubs against his prostate few more times before the redhead is coming, forcing his legs wide open to press as far into him as possible. “Fucking give it to me,” he whispers encouragingly, loving how full he is. “Give me your fucking cum, I wanna be full of it.”  
“Yeah?” Ian asks, sounding like he ran a marathon. “You’ll be so fucking full, your hole will still be sloppy in the morning, when I fuck you again, dump another load in you.”  
Mickey just moans and rubs his ass against the other man, milking him dry. They stay like that far longer than comfortable, but Mickey is sure his legs won’t work properly anyway. His lower body is hurting, sore in all the right places, but he already wants more.  
“I missed you so much,” he whispers because he is feeling vulnerable and open, and knows Ian feels the same.  
“I know, baby.”

Ian is a mess on the way to Ellen’s studio, almost crushing Mickey’s fingers in his hold. His anxiety is making everyone in the car nervous, but they know better than to tell him to calm down. That has never helped anyone, and if anything, they’d have to deal with an angry, anxious Gallagher.  
Mickey, on the other hand, is quite relaxed. His ass is sore, and it distracts him every time he accidentally, or not so accidentally, grinds down. He knows Ian is going to crush it, and his puppy eyes will make all the girls pee their pants – maybe not Ellen herself since she is a lesbian, but everyone else around them. But he understands that Ian’s anxiety comes from being _forced_ to talk about it, and he tries to respect that.  
“They aren’t going to hate you,” he mutters, pressing a quick kiss to Ian’s temple right before they exit the car, earning himself a grateful smile. Ian wants him there while the makeup artist applies his makeup and does his hair, and Mickey starts to think their hands are going to merge together if they don’t let go soon.  
When it’s finally Ian’s time, Mickey gets to stay behind the set and watch the whole thing. Ian is obviously nervous, but Maya says it’s good for his image, and Mickey has no choice but to trust her. He is so focused on his boyfriend that he doesn’t notice Mandy approach until it’s too late and her arms are wrapped around him. Shocked, he shoves her away none too gently. She stumbles away with a yelp, and Mickey gets a good look of his sister. She is blonde now, and it works for her, making her features softer. But she has always been pretty, that has never been an issue.  
“What the fuck are you doing? And why are you here?”  
“I came to support my best friend. He told me you are back together and...”  
“He invited you?”  
“No, but I know people here, so they let me in. like I said, I know you are back together, so I wanted to hang out with you.”  
“Let me get this straight, you think we’re cool because Ian and I are dating again?”  
“I… yes?” there’s a hint of doubt in Mandy’s voice, as there should be. Mickey stares at her incredulously. Mandy was always quite insolent, but this is some other level bullshit he doesn’t want to deal with while his boyfriend is pouring his heart out to the strangers.  
“Fuck no, you fucked me over for no reason, we’re far from fucking fine.”  
“But he cheated on you, and you forgave him, so...”  
“Lower your voice, no one needs to know it’s me! And Ian gave me a reason I could accept, what’s yours? Do you have one? We can talk about it later, now shut up.”  
He walks away, closer to Maya, so he can watch Ian in peace. Ellen keeps the atmosphere relatively light and doesn’t try to stray from the script. The recording of the interview takes longer than he hoped it would, but that’s how it usually works. Everything has to be as perfect as possible, especially when one of the celebrities is announcing something that might destroy their carrier. The audience gasps and coos in all the right places. Some of them seem genuinely shocked, but mostly understanding.  
Ian performs one of his older hits, ‘Empty space’, because he isn’t there to promote his new album, it’s not even ready yet. It’s just him and the acoustic guitar, and although Mickey knows that this stripped down, heartfelt version is meant to win the public over, show them that Ian is just a fragile, flawed artist, he still closes his eyes and gets lost in the song. It ends too soon for his liking, and he makes a mental note to ask Ian to sing it to him later when they are alone.  
Ian is slightly sweaty when he joins Mickey few minutes later, but already much calmer. He’s done his best and whatever happens next is out of his control.  
Ian’s whole face lights up the second he spots Mandy, and Mickey isn’t petty enough to spoil it for him. He shrugs and nods towards his sister, and seconds later Ian is hugging Mandy and twirling her around. Mandy looks happy, tightly holding onto Ian, and Mickey bitterly thinks that whatever explanation she tries to feed him won’t be able to cover up the truth.  
He stays close to Maya, who doesn’t try to talk to him, but smiles softly. She probably knows everything, even if it happened before she’s been hired.  
Ian joins them few minutes later, pink lipstick smeared on his cheek and Mandy trailing behind him.  
“We should probably talk?” he suggests.  
“You wanna go to your house?” Mickey asks, staring at Ian. Mandy will have to roll with whatever they decide.  
“Yeah. Mandy drove here, so we’ll meet at my place, alright?” the last part is directed at Mandy, who readily agrees. She is trying to make eye contact with Mickey, but he isn’t having any of that. He is glad they don’t have to be in the same car, unsure if he would be able to handle it. It’s enough that Ian is already quite hyped up, legs bouncing as he recounts the show as if Mickey wasn’t there with him. But Mickey lets him do it, it’s better than trying to talk about Mandy. He is worried that Ian is going to take Mandy’s side, and Mickey will have to cut ties with both of them. He can’t be someone’s second choice, not again, so he really hopes Ian will be on his side or at least will keep his mouth shut.  
“I know you’re angry,” Ian says right before they leave the car. “But… try to listen to her?”  
“I’m here, am I not? I’m going to listen, but what if she doesn’t have anything to say?”  
“I… don’t know,” the redhead admits. “I never tried asking.”  
He was afraid of what Mandy would say. Afraid that he would lose one of his oldest friends. Like Mickey did when they broke up, so he doesn’t blame him for not trying to get the truth out of Mandy. Well, they will learn it anyway.


	8. Chapter 8

“Do you want something to drink?” Ian asks once they’re all in the living room, but Mickey is quick to shoot him down.  
“Let’s get straight to it, no bullshitting. Mandy,” he finally looks at his sister, who is sitting on a sofa and scratching her left arm, a nervous habit of hers. He tries to keep his voice level, she is still his sister, even if they aren’t close anymore. “Why the fu… why would you do that to me?”  
“I didn’t! I mean, I wasn’t thinking that it would hurt you. I just… wanted to keep Ian happy.”  
“And fucking random men made him happy?”  
Ian makes a choked up noise in the back, but Mickey can’t look at him right now.  
“It… He… he was having fun, weren’t you?” Mandy asks Ian, trying to get him involved.  
“Don’t drag him into this. Why did you prioritize his happiness over mine?”  
“He was my employer.”  
“I’m your fucking brother!” he shouts, and Ian puts a hand on his knee to calm him down. “You got hired because you’re my sister, and you fucking turned on me. I want to forgive you, but you have to give me a reason. Give me _something_ I can work with.”  
“Ian is my best friend, and he was my employer back then, what else do you want me to say?” Mandy finally snaps at him, like she has any right to be angry. But she is, because she is a Milkovich, and anger is their defense mechanism.  
“Are you still in love with him? I know you used to be in the past. Is that it?”  
“No!” she denies it, but Mickey is watching closely, and he can see the flicker of uncertainty and the quick look she sends Ian before her eyes go back to his.  
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he sighs, more hurt than he thought he would be. “You love him, and you were jealous of me, so...”  
“I was lonely! He would be with me, but I could tell he was thinking about you. You were so happy together, while guys would pump and dump me all the time! I was sad and lonely, and neither of you understood that, because you’ve been together for-fucking-ever!”  
“Right. So you decided to fuck us up.”  
“Oh, don’t fucking blame me for the fact that you weren’t enough for your boyfriend!”  
“That’s not...” Ian tries to say, but Mickey steamrolls over him, voice considerably louder, but not a yell. “My boyfriend had a fucking problem, and instead of helping him, you dragged him further down! Did it feel good when he was crying on your shoulder? Did you like consoling him after I broke up with him?”  
“I felt needed!”  
“We always needed you! As a friend and as a sister! You are my only fucking sister, Mandy, the only one who gave a shit when we were kids. But not anymore, huh? You made that pretty fucking clear.”  
“I’m sorry, what else do you want me to do?”  
“I wanted you to take my fucking side when my boyfriend was cheating on me, but we can’t go back in time, can we? I wanted to believe you aren’t in-fucking-love with my boyfriend, but that ain’t happening either. So really, now I just want you to fuck off and pretend we aren’t related.”  
“That’s not fucking fair! I made a mistake, alright? I know I did, and I regret hurting you, but we’ve done fucked up shit in the past and still forgave each other.”  
“We were kids with zero self-respect, Mandy,” Mickey says tiredly. “I refuse to go back to that.”  
“So what, you’re just going to drop me, but still be with Ian?”  
“Fucking hell, you are the one who chose Ian over me, it’s your fucking fault I can’t trust you to have my back! Don’t try to blame me for that.”  
“Ian...” Mandy turns to the redhead again, and Mickey freezes, his heart beating even faster than before. “Say something. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”  
It feels like Ian is silent for a very long time, but in reality it’s only few seconds. He sighs heavily, clearly burdened by the situation they found themselves in. “I think you should go home, Mands. Mickey has every right to refuse to forgive you. I did, but that’s because you did it for me, even if I also have been hurt in the process. We were both guilty. Go home, I’ll call you in a few days.”  
“Mickey...” she tries again, but now that he knows everything he needed to know, he is done. He leaves the room without looking at her and goes to the bathroom. She didn’t say anything he didn’t expect, and yet he is still upset. He splashes cold water on his face and dries it with Ian’s towel. He doesn’t have his own here yet.  
Ian is waiting for him in the bedroom, already stripped down to the underwear, but the sight doesn’t have the same effect on Mickey as it usually would. He is too tired for anything physical. Ian seems to understand that and doesn’t start anything after Mickey undresses and slips into the bed. He maneuvers the younger man onto his back and lies on his chest. Ian used to be such a scrawny little kid, and now he could probably bench press Mickey if he tried hard enough. They all changed so fucking much, far more than he expected it to be possible.  
“Can I still be friends with Mandy?” Ian asks quietly, his breath fanning across Mickey’s temple.  
“I’m not going to tell you who you can or cannot hang out with, Ian. Just keep her away from me and make it clear she ain’t stand a chance with you, ever.”  
“She doesn’t, I’m as gay as they come, and I love you.”  
“I love you too, you sap. Now go to sleep, you’ve got work tomorrow.”  
“It’s not work if you love it.”  
“Oh, shut the fuck up, Ian.”  
The redhead giggles like a kid, but he finally settles and closes his eyes. He looks stupidly cute, and despite everything, Mickey’s heart seems to swell, suddenly too big for his chest.

Fiona ends up lying for Debbie, because the young redhead did leave her daughter alone while she was drinking, so in the end Franny gets to stay with her mother. Mickey thinks it’s a good thing, giving Debbie another chance to become a better mother and avoiding a scandal before the Ellen episode airs. It’s impossible to tell if it’s going to last, but Debbie seems genuinely regretful that she put her daughter at risk, acting like her own parents would. And if there’s one thing the Gallagher don’t want, it’s to be like their parents, which Mickey understands more than anyone. Debbie even apologizes to Ian, but Mickey isn’t there to witness it. To no one’s surprise, Ian accepts the apology, although he is still rather distant when he talks about it, claiming that he wants to wait and see if Debbie will really pull herself together without his help, because there’s only so much you can do for another person, and Ian has done more than enough.  
Ian spends most of his days working on the album, although Mickey has a sneaking suspicion he is keeping himself busy to avoid worrying about other things. From what he heard from Maya, the album is basically ready, but Ian is being slightly obsessive.  
Mickey should probably be glad, because once the album is released, Ian will go on a tour. And while he knows the redhead is working hard on his addiction, keeping himself in check, Mickey isn’t sure if he can handle the separation. He is going to worry about Ian sleeping with dancers, sound technicians or groupies. Luka has no loyalty to him, so she wouldn’t probably try to stop the redhead, and she most definitely wouldn’t tell Mickey if anything happened. So maybe he should enjoy the relative peace while it lasts, because he can’t imagine it ending well. It’s something he didn’t really think about when Ian came back into his life, but now it’s no longer a distant future that can be ignored.  
On the day the Ellen episode finally airs, Ian is all over the place. He can’t focus the whole day, and he clings to Mickey like a baby koala. Except it’s not cute, because Ian is so stressed out he looks like he might pass out. At first he says they aren’t going to watch it, but then insists they have to while monitoring the comments and tags on twitter and instagram. Maya is probably doing the same thing anyway, but Ian is convinced he has to know first. Mickey argues with him and, in the end, he is the one checking the feed while Ian bites his nails.  
He doesn’t realize he’s also been holding his breath until Ian’s segment ends, and he’s read far more comments from, mostly, teenage girls and boys than he ever wanted. Whoever put the show together did a tremendous job, because even Mickey, who was behind the scenes when they were recording so he already heard everything, gets slightly choked up. The response is largely positive, except random hate comments here and there, some focus solely on how hot Ian was on the show or how well he sounded. Soon enough he is trending, not just in the US but worldwide, and Mickey is sure there will be more negative comments while more and more people discover Ian’s story, but it doesn’t seem like they’ll ever be a majority.  
He tries to ignore the comments that mention Ian’s “ex” and bring up ‘Broken promise’, but it still hurts to see some people say that it’s no wonder the redhead cheated, since it’s near impossible to find someone hot enough to match Ian. Which, in an immature mind, seems like reason enough to get a free pass for cheating. It hits home, because he thought about it before, but it’s not the right moment to even think about it.  
“They still love you, E. You’re getting new followers instead of losing them, or whatever it is that you worried about.”  
“Oh… I didn’t expect that,” there’s genuine relief in Ian’s voice.  
“You keep forgetting that other people don’t see you the way you see yourself.”  
“Yeah, I know me better than they do.”  
“Stop the pity party, most fans are praising you for how brave you are to talk about your addiction, there are even comments from some famous people.”  
Just then, Ian’s phone pings, and he quickly pulls it out to read the message. The look of confusion and shame flashes through his face, and Mickey is instantly alert.  
“Who’s that?”  
“Adam...”  
“Adam? Lambert?”  
“Mm. He… he wrote that I did well, and that he is proud of me.”  
“No shit?” Mickey laughs and makes a mental note to text Adam later and thank him for showing support, even if he is not Ian’s biggest fan.  
“No shit. I was a complete dick to him, and he is still so supportive. I’ll have to apologize.”  
While Mickey agrees with that, he also thinks there are far more pressing matters at the moment. Namely, celebrating the good reception of Ian’s confession, which Mickey intends to do in the bedroom.  
It hasn’t even been twenty four hours since the episode aired when Ian is told by Maya that his label decided to speed up the release of his next album. To be honest, they probably should have expected that to happen, but Mickey is still annoyed that the execs want to exploit Ian’s story to sell more copies of the album. The redhead doesn’t seem bothered by it, but Mickey knows that he is so relieved that he would probably agree to appear naked in the music video. They tried to force him to do it before, but Ian insisted on wearing tiny shorts that left nothing to the imagination. And it paid off, since it’s still his highest-watched video despite not being his best selling song.  
“We need to hire more security for you, and from now on I’ll be completely in charge of your official social media accounts,” Maya announces after she is done telling them the news.  
“What? Why?”  
“Because some people might feel sorry for you, but some see your weakness as a chance to fuck you, and I’m not risking you and Mickey being hurt again,” Maya says bluntly. It’s kind of her to include Mickey, but he knows it’s all about Ian. Or at least that’s what he thinks before Maya continues, “They’ll slide into your DMs, leave nasty comments or corner you alone if they see you somewhere. I think both of you suffered enough already, and while I’m not managing Mickey, I don’t think he deserves to live in uncertainty. I want to lower the risk as much as possible, so let me handle it, okay?”  
“Thank you,” it’s all Mickey manages to choke out, but he hopes that she can see how grateful he is, even if he isn’t able to say it.  
After all those years, it still surprises him when people care. Joy calls it low self-esteem, but Joy can go and fuck himself.

He hears ‘Soar’ one day before the official release. It’s not at all what he expected. He thought it would be an upbeat, pop-y number about love, just like ‘Broken promise’ was a rather traditional ballad. ‘Soar’ is about love, Ian’s love for him, but it’s a rather slow number, full of longing. He gets goosebumps while he listens to it, and he doesn’t remember the last time he felt so loved. The song is almost overwhelming, and he almost wishes he could keep it to himself. It is, after all, his song. Ian wrote it for him. But he isn’t going to ask, he knows other people are going to love it as well, and it wouldn’t be fair to keep it hidden.  
He wishes that for once he was articulate enough to tell Ian how much he appreciates it and how much it means to him. But all he can say is, “God, I love you so much.”  
And it seems to be enough, because Ian smiles at him brightly like it was Mickey who gave him something precious and not the other way round.  
The song is an immediate hit, people gushing all over the internet about how special their love must be. Even most critics jump on the bandwagon, calling it _a surprisingly refreshing and honest song from the red-haired heartthrob_. It sounds good enough to Mickey, but Ian grumbles about critics not taking him seriously. He can’t really comment on that, since most of the time he listens to different genres of music and doesn’t take pop seriously either. But Mickey’s personal preference doesn’t influence anyone.  
The album that follows is equally well received, and they celebrate the success in Ian’s hot tub first, then they continue mostly in his bed. Mickey almost wishes he was unemployed, but he isn’t, so he goes to work completely exhausted and happy that he isn’t the one doing all the heavy lifting anymore.  
He tries not to think about the upcoming tour, but it’s rather difficult when the rehearsals already started and everyone around him seems to be talking about it. Between rehearsing and promoting the album, Ian doesn’t have much free time, so Mickey goes back to his own flat. He forgot how busy and lonely the period after every new release was. And it was about to get worse when Ian went on tour. Mickey knows what he signed up for when he decided to date a pop star, but it doesn’t make it any easier.  
It’s just after one in the morning, he’s been in bed for two hours because he has work in the morning, when someone insistently knocks on his door. He is both sleepy and pissed off when he yanks it open, ready to yell at whoever is taking away from his rest. But the fight leaves him when he sees a disheveled, tired Ian standing at his doorstep, green eyes wide and worried.  
“You weren’t home when I got there.”  
“Yeah, you aren’t there most of the time either, and my flat is closer to work, so I decide to stay here. And I wanted you to get at least some rest when you finally come back.”  
“I can rest with you round.”  
“Not if you insist on having sex before going to sleep.”  
“I want to make up for not being there during the day,” Ian mumbles, and Mickey has to bite his lip, so he won’t say that it’s not sex that he misses. “We need to talk.”  
“Now?”  
“That would be best.”  
If they talk for an hour, Mickey will still get five more hours of sleep, which he can work with. They sit in the kitchen, so Mickey can prepare food for Ian while the redhead talks. It’s late, but he doubts his boyfriend ate anything in the past few hours.  
“Let me get it all out before you start yelling at me,” it’s not the most comforting way to start, and Mickey focuses on keeping his hands from shaking while he makes pancakes from scratch. He has a mix somewhere, but he likes homemade pancakes better, and it buys him more time before he, possibly, freaks out. “I want you to join my crew. You know that we travel with our own stage crew, and you’d be one of them. And it’s not because I don’t trust myself, okay? I can’t live in a bubble, and I know that, so you won’t be there to keep an eye on me. I just don’t want to be without you for such a long time anymore. I think being alone contributed to my problem in the past, I missed you so damn much that I let myself look for comfort in other people. I’m on tour for at least six months a year, and there’s only so much traveling we can do to see each other during that time, especially with you working for someone else. And now I know it’s unfair to you as well, so come work with me.”  
“Ian, I don’t want to go back to being one of the crew members, I worked hard to get where I’m now.”  
“I know, and you wouldn’t be. You’d do what you’re doing now, manage other employees. Eddie is responsible for that at the moment, but I already talked to him and his boss, and they agreed to move him to another team.”  
“And what would I be doing when you’re not on tour? I don’t wanna work with another musician, it would make no difference in how much time we get to spend together.”  
“You’d do the same thing you do now, just for a different company. They also do stages in the LA area.”  
“So what you are saying is you went behind my back to do all that?” he says with a smirk, but immediately regrets trying to fuck with his boyfriend when Ian’s face falls, and he looks like he might cry. “Hey, no, I’m just pulling your leg. It sounds good. I’ve been pretty worried about the tour, so we can do that if you can ensure that I’ll get hired.”  
“Wait, really?” Ian clearly thought Mickey would put up a fight, but he sees no reason to do that. He wants to be happy, and while he will never be a kept boy, he doesn’t mind working with Ian.  
“Yeah, man, I wanna be where you are.”


End file.
